


To Oblivion and Back

by Aydaptic



Series: Legends Of Tamriel [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Angst, Denial of Feelings, Drunken Shenanigans, Fraternization, M/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Content, Werewolf Culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-15 09:54:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4602333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aydaptic/pseuds/Aydaptic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"So..." Thrynn began. "Who's the top?"</p><p>Corvo almost choked on the mead, started coughing, much to Thrynn's amusement because he grinned like an idiot.</p><p>Everything changed after Corvo brought down his first dragon, Mirmulnir, when it is revealed that he is the Dragonborn of legend. Carrying such a responsibility is a great burden on his back, wishing at the bottom of his heart that he was not the one, destined to end The World Eater. However, his journey had its advantages, because he did find something that had been lost to him for three years. Struggling to cope with his feelings, not being aware of the fact that he could develop such a close bond with another man, he asks himself what his own intentions are.</p><p>To make matters more complicated, he is a Thane. Argis, his Housecarl... and there are regulations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To Oblivion and Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my very first fanfic and I'm not very proud of it...  
> I will completely re-write this story in the future - I’ve learned a lot since I’ve started.
> 
> ~*~

"Dovahkiin!" the dragon called in defeat, and agony, as he drew his last breath. "No!"

The guards shouted and cheered over their victory, but mostly over Corvo's epic final, in bringing down the dragon who had destroyed the Whiterun Watchtower. He had stylishly jumped onto the dragon's head with clashing blades when he was greatly wounded, and as his feet was planted at the ground once again, he sheathed his blood-riddled blades that he carried on his back. Most people would find it impractical to have a blade in both hands without any sort of defense, but they had apparently not considered blocking with one of them.

The dragon's skin started burning up, much to their confusion, as they backed away from the sudden colors that danced towards the dual-wielder in the black of night. It looked like the northern lights had found solace in a man, and would not settle for the sky. Everything that remained of Mirmulnir was a skeleton with huge bones, that could create quite the fitting armor, if you had the strength to carry them.

The strange lights were circling around him.

"I can't believe it!" a guard called as he approached the mercenary with firm steps, an astounded look on his face, not believing his own eyes. "You're... Dragonborn."

_Alduin, The World Eater, had entered Tamriel to bring destruction upon men and mer… and I, as the Dragonborn, was the only one that could stop him. But how?_

Corvo is a charismatic 25 years old brute of a nord in physique. He has grey-blue eyes that sparked of ambition, dark brown hair with the length of only a few inches and a stubble. Because of the heat in battle, he uses armors without cuirass' not to get too warm, revealing his two tattoos: two crossed sabres on his left shoulder and a dragon on the right side of his waist.

He always wore either a tricorne or hood, covering half his face. What separated him from most others was the small scar across his mouth on the left side, which carried quite the story. He is rather popular with the ladies because of his confidence, adventurous and somewhat cocky attitude. Nevertheless, he has never been able to move on from his ex-wife, Elena, who was his first and only crush.

That changed, three years later.

He had no idea what to make of all this. It had to mean something, or Akatosh would never bestow such a gift upon him, and such a responsibility. He wondered why in Oblivion this gift was given to him at all. He stole for the sheer excitement, was willing to murder some to save another, and had a lot on his plate already. There were many men, mer and beasts out there who would fit right into the heroic bravado, so he could not help but ask himself "why me?" When he returned to Whiterun, a thundering sound was heard from the skies, sending shivers down Corvo's spine.

Everything suddenly felt cold as if he had stumbled upon the cold ice that would soon devour him into Oblivion.

"Dovahkiin!"

Acer reared startled as he neighed, so his rider was forced to get a better grip of his reins, to prevent falling off his white-furred horse.

"Whoa, easy, boy..." the mercenary calmed him in a soothing voice, petted the right side of its neck in assurance, understanding of his reaction. Acer was shifting nervously in his brown fur-saddle as if he was a dog, looking for the cat he chased moments ago, who had vanished from where his eyes could reach. "It's all right."

The mercenary looked up towards the sky, concern reflecting in his eyes.

Although the strapping dual-wielding warrior did not dare admitting it, he was afraid to meet the Greybeards, the masters of the Way of the Voice, that could teach him about the Thu'um. He despised having responsibility, but it always seemed to track him down, no matter how hard he tried to avoid it. He had a difficult childhood. His mother left at once his father, Cyril, could take care of their son himself. Cyril had been taken away from his son at the bloody end of a blade before Corvo had the chance to reach his teens, leaving little choice but to take to crime.

He was taken in by the family of a woman named Elena that would have a much bigger role in his life than he never would have expected. Months passed. Riften was not the friendliest city that you could imagine, but without doubt one of the most beautiful ones, overlooking the lush landscape with colorful trees. It looked stunning when the sun was shining brightly outside to saturate the colors, from dull to bright orange. Corruption ran deep through the Jarl and citizens alike, who took advice from an older woman named Maven.

She was a woman that he came to somewhat know during the time he had spent in the city. Maven was one of the Thieves Guild's clients, which forced him to carry out her orders, whether he liked it or not. The last thing he wanted was for Bryn to give him another lesson on how not to piss off the clients, so he would be forced to drown himself in mead, because he despised being lectured. He was like a scolding older brother, and Corvo loved him, but the dark-haired nord knew how to do his job.

He had to admit that he sometimes needed to be put in place, though, so he was never dismissive. The mercenary met a strange little man going by the name of Sam Guevenne at the Bee and Barb, when he had just asked the innkeeper about bounties.

_The strange little man gave me an offer I simply couldn't refuse._

"You look like someone who can hold their liquor," Sam observed as he leant his back to the counter with an arm resting at the tabletop, which the mercenary sat by. "How about a friendly contest to win a staff?"

He looked up from his tankard with almost of a startled look, was face-to-face with a breton with short, brown hair. He was dressed in a black robe and looked like a necromancer. Corvo was not very fond of mages, but had nothing against using spells himself, because he was not the one that inconsistently scurried around like a scared skeever. Either way, he preferred blades to magic. Nothing was more personal than blade-to-blade combat. Magic gave the wielder a huge advantage, if they were able to keep their distance, because mages are not as resistant to damage.

The breton had a challenging grin, which was far too unnerving for the nord's taste.

"A drinking contest?" he echoed questioning with a slight amused smile, forced himself not to laugh. After all, he was a nord, so he took the man's challenge within a heartbeat. "You've got guts, lad, but you don't stand a chance!"

"Ha, we'll see about that! This is a special brew, very strong stuff. Let's get started! I'll start round one. Down the hatch!" he insisted enthusiastic, pleased by the mercenary's willingness to cooperate, as he added his weapon of choice. Sam, highly sure of himself, filled two tankards with the brew. He slid down into the chair by Corvo's side, moved the first drink to his own mouth and quickly ingested the liquid. "Your turn!"

"Here we go..." he said, and sipped the drink with high confidence, replied smug. "Not too late to back out."

Sam chuckled. It was true. It was strong stuff. He felt a little dizzy already, but that did not stop him. He was not losing to a breton. The mead tasted just like any other mead, a subtle core flavor or character, but there was yet something about it that he could not quite place. For some reason, Sam seemed to enjoy himself quite a bit, as he took the next.

"And how about you?" he asked.

"A second drink," he replied, trying to convince himself that this was something he could do. He had no need for a staff, but he would never pass up a bet. "Easy enough."

"So says you. I think I've hit my limit on these things," Sam concluded. "Tell you what. One more, and you win the contest."

_What harm could one more drink do me?_

He then took the last drink.

"Wow, you've really done it," he muttered, somewhat impressed, while Corvo gave him an 'at least you tried' expression. "The staff is yours."

"Hey, that's great, lad."

The nord turned his head to the breton, whose face had started blurring up, as the mercenary could feel he was dozing off. He had not felt this way ever since the last prank he had pulled on the Guild with Thrynn, who was without doubt a horrible influence on his Guild Master. The former bandit never used his boss' friendship to his advantage, however, which was a pleasant surprise for a change. Alcohol was involved. Nothing else to say. It amazed him how well he got along with the former bandit. He despised people that could not stick to one partner.

But there was just something particularly lovable about the womanizer, which made him overlook it.

"You know, you're a fun person to drink with," Sam said approving as he smiled smug, seemed like there was something he was not telling the other man, as it surely would backfire. "I know this great little place where the wine flows like water. We should head there."

"Sure, but..." he muttered, struggled keeping his eyes open. "I don't... feel so good..."

It all went black.

He wearily opened his eyes, took after his head and sat up.

_Where in Oblivion am I? A temple? My feet were practically killing me and eyes felt like I had poured acid on them, like I hadn't slept for weeks. That was a feeling I had forgotten long ago, ever since I joined the Circle. Ever since I obtained the beast blood, any attempt at restful sleep was in vain, so I had almost stopped trying. I don't know what bothered me the most. The fact that I can't sleep with the beast blood, or the fact that I couldn't even sleep for five minutes without having nightmares, when I was fully human._

"Wake up!" an angry female voice called disembodied in almost an echo, so he could tell that he was inside, in a rather open interior. When the constant ringing in his head stopped, to his relief, her voice became clear. "That's right, it's time to wake up!"

"Wh -? Oh, Gods... my head..." he gravelly groaned in pain.

Corvo lifted his head, had a pounding headache, as he could spot a woman dressed in a hooded orange robe. She looked displeased, as she had crossed arms, staring judging down at the man who had just sat up. His left arm was resting at his left knee.

"Yes, your head!" she called bothered as if it was obvious and released her arms. He had been drinking, true, but he did not get drunk that easily. Not after only three tankards. Nothing of this made any sense. "I'm guessing you also don't remember coming in here and blathering incoherently about marriage or a goat."

"I wouldn't exactly call my ex-wife a goat -" he began puzzled. "-Wait, did I... marry a goat?"

"What? No, of course not," she said exasperated, to the mercenary's relief, even if he had a lot of questions. "Which means you don't remember losing your temper and throwing trash all over the temple."

"Gods..." he frowned at the images in his head as he looked around himself, spotted ingredients lying scattered all around the place, and of course... empty wine bottles. "I'm sorry, lass. I don't even remember how I got here." 

"Well, you were deep in your cups when you got here," she replied understandably as her expression had softened a little, realized that he may not actually remember anything. "You were ranting but most of it was slurred. You said something about Rorikstead."

It was like he had completely blacked out. It was if Sithis himself had taken him into the Void, and fed on the energy that had completely left his body. He had no memory of what happened, and it would most likely prove to be a bad thing. After he was done cleaning up, he started moving towards the door, took a firm grip around its handle and gently pushed it open. His eyes widened at the sight before him.

"Huh..." he uttered puzzled.

_I was in Markarth._

He wearily rubbed his eyes with his right index finger and thumb, felt like his head would explode any minute. The Nightingale dragged his feet down the stairs, taking the colors in so he got used to the auras and made sure he did not step into thin air, as not all the high point edges of Markarth were protected by stone fences to prevent people from falling. He was used to ending up in situations like this, so he continued his journey as if nothing had happened. Turns out that Sam was actually the Daedric Prince of Debauchery, and Corvo was victim of his prank.

_It was fun, though, if you disregard the hangover._

While he was in Markarth, he helped Jarl Igmund to retrieve his lost shield, and was humbly titled Thane of the Reach. He also purchased a home in the city, Vlindrel Hall, and was assigned a Housecarl named Argis the Bulwark. That is when everything happened. The dual-wielder was carefully studying the rustic, dwarven architecture as he walked up the gradual staircase. His hangover had luckily worn off only hours after he had woken up in the temple of Dibella. Markarth was a beautiful city, and he did not understand why so many people disliked it.

The gorgeous canal that went through the city reminded him of Cheydinhal, in the province of Cyrodiil, which he knew all too well. The Housecarl was studying some maps over the province at the living room table, his back turned against the door opening, as his hands rested at the tabletop. The mercenary smiled friendly as he approached the first indoors door opening.

"You must be Argis."

Argis gently pushed himself away from the table, let his left hand remain as he turned around. The first thing the Dragonborn noticed was his eyes, which he always does, when he meets new people. They were amber. He spotted three small scar-lines from his left eye which was blind almost reached his chin. The Housecarl had a spiral, crimson red warpaint and circle beard. He was wearing Steel Armor, had blonde hair and a muscular build. Argis was the most handsome man Corvo had ever seen.

His attractiveness only increased as the corners of his mouth slightly curved upwards, revealing a charming smile as he let go of the table with his left as well. He had a gruff, manly but friendly voice.

"That's right."

"Corvo," the Dragonborn introduced himself modulated as he approached, stretched out his right hand to greet him, so he took it. "A pleasure meeting you, lad."

He could not help but smile back, because he immediately understood that this was a man he without doubt wanted to get to know better. They held eye contact as they firmly shared a handshake. It was an inviting and pleasant feeling for them both.

"A pleasure meeting you as well, my Thane," he replied genuine. "What brings you to Markarth?"

"Apparently a goat," he said as he turned his head to his left, placing his hands on his hips, amused at the thought. The other man rose his left eyebrow in confusion, looked adorable as his expression was filled with questions about the abrupt statement that his Thane had submitted. The other man moved his eyes back to Argis' again, interrupting his own thought. "It's ah, kind of a long story, which brings me back... to Fort Sungard. Are you known around those territories?"

"It's a large Forsworn occupied fort at the crossroads between The Reach, Whiterun Hold, and Falkreath."

"Would be appreciated to have someone by my side who knows the area," he stated, knowing that it would be a lot easier with a guide, so the chance decreased greatly of wandering into the wrong forsworn occupied fort. The bastard ravagers with their dual-wielding abilities bothered him to no end. If it was a Briarheart, it would be even worse. "Think you can take me there, chief?" 

"Of course, my Thane."

Corvo could not help but comment that he had tried avoiding to do, pleasantly chuckled as he looked a little down and then back to the other man, was not used to be greeted with such formality. It was new, and he could not say that he appreciated it, because there was little he disliked more than being referred to as higher title than the one speaking to him. It made him feel like people looked upon him as arrogant and self-centered, placing himself above anyone else, something he certainly was not and would not.

"What's all this commotion?"

"The Jarl has recognized you as a person of great importance in the hold. A hero. The title of Thane is an honorary title. Guards will look the other way if you tell them who you are," the Housecarl began explaining, so the other man's expression softened a little as he continued, amazed by his sentiment and dedication. "As my Thane, I'm sworn to your service. I'll guard you and all you own - with my life."

"Then... I'm honored. Truly."

They set out towards Fort Sungard, where he was sent to retrieve Ghorza's book, Markarth's blacksmith. They spotted the big tower in the distant horizon, and carefully approached it, so they got the upper hand on the forsworn. The mercenary drew back the string on his bow, closed his left eye to aim properly and an arrow lining up towards the unfortunate forsworn who was enjoying the view. He silently inhaled, and then let go of the first arrow that in a swift travel through the wind pierced the forsworn's head.

They managed to take down about three of them before the fight was on. Swords were clashing aggressively and graceful arrows were swooping in both directions. Before the duo realized, the forsworn surrounded them, as they were standing back-to back, eyeing every direction.

They carefully shielded themselves from incoming arrows. Corvo removed his guard for a moment, much to the other man's confusion.

_"Fus!"_

The Dragonborn's Shout staggered the forsworn greatly, as they were yelling insults. Argis' surprise was beyond comprehension, as he saw his Thane speak the ancient language of the dragons, and beholding such power. The Thu'um gave the two a huge advantage, as they ended the lives of the forsworn by blades. The area was cleared. The Housecarl moved his attention to the other man, confusion in his eyes.

"Another long story, lad," he replied somewhat sheepishly, changed the subject, not wanting to brag about being the Dragonborn of legend. "You're clearly impressive in battle. I, ah... tend to end up in bad situations."

_That's an understatement._

"Would you be interested in joining me?" he continued.

"It would be an honor, my Thane."

_Everything just got a lot more interesting._

Days passed.

"Thane, may I ask you a question?"

The dual-wielder stopped moving, his expression softened a little in confusion, turned ninety degrees so his right shoulder was facing Argis, who stopped moving as well.

"Of course, lad," he replied, somewhat apprehensive. "Everything all right?"

"You were the one the Greybeards were calling?" he asked, although it sounded more like a statement.

"It's a lot to take in. I get the feeling that suddenly a lot of people are relying on me," he admitted as his expression softened a little, looked to his left as she moved his hands to his hips, now realizing how ashamed he felt for ignoring it. "Now I'm doing the worst thing possible. Running away."

"Thane," Argis began to get the other man's attention before he continued on, which he succeeded in gaining. "Believe me, I get it. But what if what you're saying is true, that people rely on you, that you have that responsibility? For all we know, the return of the Dragonborn has to be... I dunno, important somehow."

_He had a point._

The mercenary closed his eyes, exhaled silently, and then opened them again.

"You're right, I just... I've delayed this for far too long."


	2. Trust

Hours passed.

A tall building was to see, skies arrayed and circled around the very top, creating a harmonic vibe from the building that had to be centuries old. High Hrothgar. They approached the base of the monastery, eyes wandering to the grading double-staircases, an offering chest placed quaintly between the two doors, as the stairs separated and curved up towards the entrances. The weather was clear in the village of Ivarstead, but the monastery was established so far up that it almost seemed like a completely different world.

They went inside and a robed, bearded, wise old man named Arngeir calmly approached Corvo.

"So... a Dragonborn appears at this moment in the turning of the age."

"You call me Dragonborn," he replied. "What does that mean?"

"First, let us see if you truly are Dragonborn," he said modulated. "Let us taste of your voice. Shout at us."

The mercenary inhales silently.

_"Fus!"_

The Greybeards were forced back a little because of the force.

"Dragonborn. It is you," he said approving. "Welcome to High Hrothgar. I am Master Arngeir. I speak for the Greybeards. Now tell me, Dragonborn, why have you come here?"

"I want to find out what it means to be Dragonborn."

After minutes of training that seemed all to simple, learning and demonstrating the second word of Unrelenting Force, and a completely new one named Whirlwind Sprint that allowed him to leap great distances, the Dragonborn had succeeded his training.

"You are now ready for your last trial," the old man remarked. "Retrieve the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller, our founder, in the ancient tomb of Ustengrav."

Argis and Corvo traveled to the ruin.

They were met by a necromancer, conjuring dead bandit thralls to engage combat with the duo, which proved to be an easy feat. The Dragonborn despised conjuration of dead people or animals, wanting them to be able to rest in peace, but there was little he could do about it. It almost broke his heart as he brought them down once again, feeling the cold embrace of death a second time, as the only thing they muttered was "thank you." After minutes of fighting necromancers, bandits, draugrs and spiders, they noticed a huge area occupied by about four skeletons.

The lights came in at certain parts through the roof. It was truly beautiful.

"That's... that's... wow," the Housecarl commented in awe.

Soon, Corvo spotted a pathway up top. His senses told him that there had to be something on the other side of the unstable stone bridge, and wanting to explore, he decided to check it out. It would be risky, though, but that did not bother him as much as it should. Possibly the only living being that was able to put an end to the World Eater should honestly stop putting himself at risk. It would be embarrassing to meet a premature death by falling off heights and break his own limbs.

"Hey," the Dragonborn began, continued on, with words that brought out Argis' exasperation. "Wait here."

"What are you doing?"

"Just shut up and wait here."

The Housecarl exhaled, placed his hands on his hips, waiting patiently as his Thane moved towards the small almost-falling bridge. He managed to tear a few rocks down by his feet, as Argis went forward to catch him if he fell.

"Hey, careful!" he called agitate.

The other man did not fall, though, backing away from the fallen concrete. Being a master in both assassination and thievery had its advantages. He was used to high places, moving swiftly, and he adored heights. He could move completely undetected if he wanted to.

"I know what I'm doing."

"Clearly," the Housecarl murmured sarcastic.

"I heard that, lad!" the mercenary called from the opposite side of the room, much to the bodyguard's surprise.

"Wait, how...?" he began asking, but cut himself off and decided to leave it. "Gods, you done? Get back down here before you hurt yourself."

Corvo's wolfish abilities was something he kept hidden from everyone, because people did not look too kindly upon lycanthropes, which made complete sense. Thrynn had found out when he was active within the Thieves Guild, just as he found out about the other man's involvement with the Brotherhood, and then convinced the mercenary to tell the rest of the members about his 'condition.' That was something he appeared reluctant to at first. The Brotherhood part, he kept between the two, thankfully. The mercenary's involvement was not as it seemed, after all.

Not long after, he climbed down again, just as stylish as always. They cleared the ruin. The horn was supposed to be in the inner sanctum.

Instead, they found a letter without signature:

'Dragonborn, I need to speak to you. Urgently. Rent the attic room at the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood, and I'll meet you. -A friend.'

It was night, northern lights filled the sky and Riverwood was far away, so they had to set up camp.

The temperature was very comfortable, neither too cold or too warm. The Dragonborn was lying at a quite flat half-meter high rock by the campfire where his back was resting ninety-five degrees up towards a big rock behind him, as his legs were crossed. He was sketching in the small, dark-brown journal he was always carrying around. Argis was shirtless, and in amazing shape, chopping up wood for the fire that would soon burn out. He glanced at his Housecarl as his expression softened a little.

The Dragonborn looked to his right, unknowingly took hold of the brass ring attached to a black leathered chain around his neck with his left hand, as he looked at the northern lights to his right.

"That someone special?" the gruff but softened voice asked, as he sat down at the same rock by his Thane's feet. It broke him from his thoughts, moving his attention to his Housecarl.

"What?" he asked a little confused, but then realized, as he looked at the ring. "Oh... aye. I suppose you could say that. Jealous?"

"That's funny," he replied, not amused at the mercenary's joke, so Corvo chuckled a little.

"Elena, my ex," the other man revealed. "I know it's strange keeping it. I was the one that walked away, but... it's become a part of me."

"It's not, my Thane," he replied reassuring. The other man turned a few pages in his journal, and then handed Argis the book. He looked at the page that his Thane had unfolded, so his expression softened a little. It was a completely realistic drawing of Elena. He was impressed with his Thane's artistic talent. "She's beautiful."

_In my eyes, Elena is the most beautiful nord lass who ever existed in Tamriel. She had black, long, straight hair, bright blue eyes and a smile that could melt even the strongest of men. She was loyal, and even if it didn't work between us, we still remained close friends. No bad blood between us, whatsoever._

"She is," he replied, as he could not help but smile a little. "I've known her ever since I was a child. We loved spending time by the canals at night at a young age. Always got into trouble for that."

"I take it you're not from Skyrim, then," he replied curiously, referring to the canals that the other man had just briefly mentioned.

"Aye. I'm a nord fully out, but I was born in Cyrodiil, in the city of Cheydinhal."

"Ever regret leaving?"

"I've met a lot of good people here. Some of 'em I could never imagine my life without, so no," Corvo replied honestly, his continuation surprising his Housecarl. "Never met anyone more selfless than her, though."

"Even more than you?"

During the small amount of time the two had spent together, the Dragonborn always did what he could to help anyone who needed or wanted it, and he always refused reward if he had the chance to.

Corvo's expression softened a little as he looked to his right.

"I'm not as selfless as you might think, lad. My records aren't exactly 'clean'," he admitted in a low voice. Argis was as expressionlessly serious as always, but a little softened, as he was listening faithfully. There was a moment of silence, as he allowed his Thane to continue. "I've stolen from nobles for the excitement, murder... Only days before we met, I -"

He stopped himself, was uncertain of saying anything about his last victim, which haunted him to this very day.

_The Emperor, Titus Mede II._

"Dark Brotherhood?"

Seconds went.

"They said they knew where Elena was... threatened me to kill her if I didn't follow their lead," he explained concerned. "So I played along."

Corvo decided to lay himself completely flat, let him know everything. Something about the man just... made him talk. Thrynn had helped the Dragonborn delay the Emperor's death, taking contact with Aedan, the commander of the army in Cyrodiil. There was irony in asking Aedan for help, because he was also Elena's bigger brother, who was hesitant to Corvo having an affair with his sister. Aedan utterly hated him, was suspicious of everything he did. Well, there's the 'overprotective brother' for you. They did get along after time, though.

_The lad was greatly respected, so he could personally ask the Emperor for an audience, and he would not allow him to die if he had something to say about it. Nevertheless, the Emperor insisted in coming to Skyrim anyways, even if he was aware that he was to meet his death by the blade of an assassin. That assassin happened to be me._

"I was the one that killed the Emperor," he stated reluctantly, not fully aware why he was telling him all this. "Even if I was given little choice, it still doesn't justify what I've done, lad."

_I expected him to shout at me or, something, but instead…_

"Don't beat yourself up over it," he said unexpectedly. The other man's eyes widened in surprise, moved them to Argis' soft, amber. His Housecarl was just as calm as always. "I would'a done the same, my Thane. It's easy to see that you regret it. That's the difference between a reckless assassin... and a man believing he did the right thing to protect someone he cared about."

"Argis, I -" he began, speechless over how understanding the other man was.

"It doesn't make you a bad man, Thane. Far from it. You should get some sleep," he cut him off determined, reached out his left arm to give him back the book, unaware that the Dragonborn did not sleep because of his beast blood. "I'll stand guard."

"Keep it for a while, lad. Might want something to do while you wait, eh? Go ahead, knock yourself out," he insisted, as his expression turned into a slight joking grin. "Literally, if you want."

The blonde was forced to smile a little and rolled his eyes.

_He sure had an amazing, and far too rare, smile. That man was always so serious. He was a by-the-book kind of guy, definitely. It bothered me how the lad always seemed to have a stick up his arse, but if there was anyone you could rely on, it would be him._

Time passed.

The bodyguard was studying Corvo's journal with huge interest.

It was definitely a good read, because the mercenary had both sketched and written down solutions on puzzles in his travels. His expression softened a little as he came to a page where he saw the same ring the other man was wearing drawn with the inscriptions:

'Your Elena.'

He felt like he was invading privacy, but after all, his Thane was the one that offered him to look at it. There was no doubt that Corvo still cared a great deal about this woman, just not romantically. Now, it closely resembled a strong friendship.

The Housecarl looked up from the book and let his eyes wander to the man to his left, who was lying on his back with a knee bent. He had a hand behind his head while the other was resting across his stomach. His tricorne was pulled down in front of his eyes in a stylish fashion. Argis then heard a rustling sound in the green bushes which surrounded them, interrupted his thoughts, and looked away from the resting nord so he could focus solely on the sound. His expression hardened as he slowly rose up, careful not to make any more sound than necessary.

Argis tightened his grip firmly around the metal hilt of his sword with his hand.

"Thane," he said calmly.

"Try to get some sleep, lad," he replied softly, his senses obviously numbed, for some reason.

_Was the sensation of such a presence too familiar?_

He gently tilted Corvo's tricorne up with his other hand so he could see, making the dual-wielder confused sit up, wondering why his Housecarl wanted his attention. He then spotted the two glowing eyes in the darkness as well, as he felt he tensed a little, his instincts telling him to protect his Housecarl no matter the cost. The eyes soon turned to six, and then several others, menacing stares focused on the two warriors who was unnervingly near. The brown-haired man slowly rose up, not moving his gaze away from the wolves.

In a threatening fashion with clenched teeth that revealed his tiny, premolar fangs, he tightened his brows.

The Housecarl placed a protective hand at his Thane's chest to hold him behind himself, feeling the blonde's comfortable warmth at his bare chest. Argis glanced over his shoulder, his expression softening in surprise and confusion, as he could easily see Corvo's glowing, yellow eyes. The amber-eyed man looked back at the wolves, who whimpered as they retreated in fear at once. Argis moved his hand from his chest, confusion in his eyes, turned around so he faced him as he was awaiting an explanation.

"Long story short," he began explaining. "I joined a company where the highest ranking members were werewolves."

Argis was about to part him from his tricorne, but respectfully hesitated, awaiting permission that the other man allowed. At once the one-eyed warrior took it off, his amber right iris almost completely showed while his brows curved upwards, his eyes wandering over his face and then settled to rest at Corvo's most used hunting sense. There was no sign of disapproval in his expression, only surprise. His expression then softened.

Argis placed his right hand under his Thane's chin, gently tilted it up, as the Dragonborn felt he pleasantly shivered at the touch.

_It felt odd and right at the same time for him to do so. Now I realized this was the very first time he had seen the other half of my face. Another thing I couldn't exactly place, his expression held something back and almost looked pained as I noticed he clenched his teeth, as if he wanted to say something but decided not to..._

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked softly, pulled his hand back, as he returned the tricorne with the other. "No reason to keep it under wraps unless you can't control it."

"Most people wouldn't hesitate to plunge a blade into me, which is perfectly understandable. However, there's a chance that if I get pissed off... That silver will save your life, lad," he referred to the dagger in Argis' holster. Corvo then let out a cute short breath as in a beginning of a laugh, smiling sheepishly. "Can't say I have that extreme anger issues, though."

"So you're basically sayin' I'd have to kill you," the other man simplified.

"The silver would shatter in my body, so I'd be dead within a few minutes. Judging from what I've seen you do, you won't have any trouble bringing me down," he said as his tone became more playful. "If I want to live, I'll just have to remove each splinter, fast."

"Glad you take this so lightly," he replied sarcastically at his statement, confused by how 'okay' his Thane was with the fact.

_It wasn't the cold embrace of death that worried me... It was where I would end up._

"I'm fine, lad," he reassured him, not touching the subject any further. "Don't worry about me."

"Keep it off, all right? After everything you've done for these people, no one'll ever think any less of you, Thane," he said as the dual-wielder was about to put the tricorne back on, but the amber-eyed man stopped him halfway and moved it back down, so the area above Corvo's nose bridge slightly furrowed. "I know that."

After a moment of silence, the other man finally spoke.

"All right."

_I decided not to push the lad any further, because there was obviously something he chose not to say, even though I was yet curious. I respected his privacy, without doubt._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** "Knock yourself out. Literally, if you want," is a reference to Mass Effect 2, Aethyta the barkeep. She's awesome.


	3. Breaking The Bulwark

They saddled their horses that were patiently waiting, who had just finished pasturing the all too green grass that reached their ankles.

Even if revealing his beast blood worried the werewolf to some extent, he took his Housecarl's word for it. They had reached Riverwood, so Corvo's expression softened in worry, as he noticed a few of the townspeople look at him. However, they just smiled friendly and moved on to their business. Argis was definitely right - no one did mind.

After passing through the town, the Dragonborn opened the door to Sleeping Giant Inn and entered as his Housecarl followed, where they spoke with Delphine. She revealed herself to be this mysterious 'friend' that had left the note in Ustengrav. It turns out that Delphine was one of the few remaining Blades, an order of warriors who protected the Septim bloodline in the third Era, and slayed dragons with great talent in ancient times. They teamed up to figure out where the dragons were coming from and set out on the long journey to find out how to stop them.

In Delphine's eyes, the best bet was the Thalmor, but even if the Dragonborn despised the arrogant kind of altmers, he did not believe that they were bringing the dragons back. When they discussed this matter, Cyril and his feud against the Thalmor was mentioned. Cyril was a skilled member of the Blades that was greatly feared among the Thalmor because of his battle prowess.

Corvo did not go into details. A sore subject.

They traveled to the Thalmor Embassy to look for clues, and it turned out that the Thalmor knew nothing about the dragons, just as the mercenary expected. They were in fact hunting down a former Blade, Esbern, to find out the exact thing themselves. The journey continued with looking for the old man, and when they did find him, their knowledge expanded. Turns out that the solution to their problem was in Sky Haven Temple, an old fort that was earlier occupied by Blades, proving a valuable resting place for the remaining ones.

In Sky Haven Temple, they found out that the only way to stop the World Eater was to learn a Shout called Dragonrend, which was explained at a carving in the wall. Alduin's wall. Who knew more about the Thu'um than the Greybeards did?

However, the Shout was lost so the only way to learn it was to speak with the Greybeard's leader, Paarthurnax (a dragon, apparently.) Paarthurnax did not know it either, but he did know how to learn it - through an Elder Scroll. With that, they sat out to find it. On their way to retrieve the Scroll after speaking to the librarian at the College of Winterhold, they met an old man named Septimus holed up in the ice fields (closely resembling a skeever on alcohol) who told them of its location. It was in a place called the Tower of Mzark, so they had to go through Blackreach.

It was a huge underground area that acted as a tunnel between most of the dwarven ruins in Skyrim. To get to Blackreach, they traveled through a dwarven ruin named Alftand, which had easy access to their destination. Septimus gave them a cube that was referred to as a lexicon, which was the key to open up the container containing the Scroll.

"This must be it," Corvo remarked. By the entrance of Blackreach, they heard two people talking in such hostility as if they would break into combat at any time. His right foot came in contact with a rusty dwemer cog, giving a clattering sound, almost too low for hearing. "What the -?"

"Shh-sh," the other man hushed him.

He took a stern grip of his Thane's arm, turning him around and pushing him into the wall to the left of the gate opening so the werewolf almost did not have time to think. The Housecarl's right hand was placed at the wall by the left side of the other man's head, supporting himself, as he had turned his head to his left in case the people had heard the slight ruckus. They had not.

"Sulla, let's just get out of here. Hasn't there been enough death?" asked a female voice.

"Oh, of course you want me to leave. Just waiting for me to turn my back. So you can have all the glory for yourself!" the other one called, and they started fighting, which was not a surprise at all. Sulla was brought down, which only left the woman, Umana.

Corvo let out another muffled but cute, short breath.

"At least buy me a drink first."

"Wait, what -?"

Argis turned his head to the other man, was puzzled. He then proceeded to notice how close they were standing. It was only centimeters between them, practically breathing the very same air. Corvo's eyes met his, and their expressions softened a little, as they held the eye contact _far_ longer than intended.

_It made me wonder how he came to lose his left eye, because I could clearly see the thin scars reaching from below it and almost down to his jaw. When our eyes met, it was always the same warm, inviting sensation, and I always felt myself drawn to them. When he broke the eye contact and pushed himself gently away from the wall, I felt relieved, as I realized that I had been holding my breath for a brief second and could finally breathe again. Everything that came to mind in that moment was... what in Oblivion just happened?_

The blonde then drew his bow, finished off Umana, too.

When the Scroll was retrieved, the Dragonborn proceeded to read it at the Time Wound, at the peak of the Throat of the World where Paarthurnax stayed. It allowed him to see back in time, saw Alduin being banished by the First Tongues, but not truly defeated. The First Tongues (Hakon, Felldir and Gormlaith) used Dragonrend. Dragonrend was a Shout that knocked a dragon out of the sky, making them vulnerable, experiencing the mortality of man. Felldir read an Elder Scroll, and with it, banished Alduin. Somehow, he learned the Shout when they used it.

Alduin appeared right in front of him after he was finished reading the Scroll, so he used his newly acquired Shout to bring him down onto the ground, and they fought. After a few minutes, Alduin turned weak. He made it clear that he could not be defeated in Tamriel, and fled. Therefore, they were left with more questions. Paarthurnax suggested to capture one of Alduin's allies, who could tell them where Alduin went. This was to be done in Dragonsreach on the Great Porch, which was built to hold a dragon, Numinex. His skull decorated the Great Hall in Whiterun.

Days passed.

"Argis, do you have a moment?"

"What do you need, my Thane?"

"You know I'm recruiting members to join the Blades. I don't know why, but I can't seem to trust these people, lad," he began describing his suspicion. The other man crossed his arms, listened faithfully as he continued on. "My ancestors were Blades, even my father. They were honorable protecting the Septim Dynasty in the third Era, but this time... I don't know. They seem so... obsessed. I don't want to see another innocent life be lost, and hold you partly responsible."

"All right, if that's your decision," he replied, somewhat reluctant of allowing his 'responsibility' to wander off alone. "Watch yourself out there."

Hopefully, he would not stray far from the cities he found the recruits, but Argis knew better. He had to accept it, because there was no way that his stubborn Thane could prevent being sidetracked.

"I'll be back soon," the werewolf promised, but it did not comfort his protector one bit.

He had seen his Thane in the field. He was often reckless, but always made sure that Argis would not suffer of his sometimes boldly chosen decisions, taking full responsibility of them himself. Corvo protected his Housecarl just as much as he protected him, and they would both die for each other if it increased the chance for the other to get away, if things got complicated. Luckily, they had never been in that situation. The Dragonborn recruited Lydia, Rayya and Jordis, three of his other Housecarls.

He decided to sign up his Housecarls because the Blades would have more use for them than him. The werewolf did not like having servants. Argis, however, he wanted by his side. Not as a servant, but as moral support, and a second opinion on decisions the Dragonborn made. Unfortunately, he rarely spoke up, resulting in following his Thane's lead blindly. That was the only downside.

_I had admitted to murdering the Emperor of Tamriel, and yet, he had my back. If I was in his footsteps, I would barely dare to turn my back… but the lad was so dedicated to his job that he was determined to "guard me and all I own, with his life."_

When they were recruited, he returned to Markarth.

He had brought Meeko with him, a homeless dog he found long ago who had lived in Breezehome with Lydia. The mercenary told Meeko to go inside, so he obediently did, and then he entered himself. The Dragonborn saw Argis entering the living room with an adorable, grumpy expression, as his hair was somewhat messed up.

Apparently, Meeko had just woke him up and said "hi."

"My Thane... I assume this stupid mutt is yours?" he asked sleepily, barely able to keep his eyes open, truly looked precious where he was standing, bridal-carrying Meeko in his arms as Corvo grinned amused.

"Ah, c'mon, lad," he replied compassionate to the dog, as he petted it. "He's not stupid, all right?"

"Why not a cat?" Argis huffed. "They drool less."

"Ha, didn't know you had a sense of humor," he commented, somewhat surprised, not able to hide the mischievous smirk.

"What's his story, anyways?"

"Meeko was in a shack in the wilderness, next to his dead owner. I couldn't let him stay there, so I brought him to Whiterun," he began. "Now when the one taking care of him there joined the Blades, I didn't have the heart to leave him alone. So I brought him here, where we go back and forth."

"Your heart's in the right place, all right," he replied, was not against the idea but still somewhat skeptical of leaving the dog wandering around in the house when they were not around. "I assume he won't be any trouble?"

"I doubt it. He's an obedient dog, for sure," he said and then kissed the dog on his head. The other man placed the Irish wolfhound at the floor, moved his hands to his hips as he looked at it with a confused expression. "Get some sleep, lad. Sorry if he woke you."

"It's fine, Thane," he replied, dismissive of the thought. "Glad to see you made it back in one piece."

"I was recruiting Blades, Argis," he defended himself a bit exasperated.

"We both know you can't resist -"

"All right, fine," he admitted defeated as he cut him off. "Guilty as charged."

"What was it this time?" the Housecarl asked, wanting to know how much in danger he had been. "A dragon?"

"Nope," the mercenary replied, much to the Housecarl's relief, because they had been in quite a few close calls. "...Two dragons."

"By Talos..." he muttered exasperated.

They traveled to Whiterun where they spoke with Balgruuf.

"I need to trap a dragon in your palace," the wielder of the Thu'um stated boldly.

Argis was quite exasperated of his Thane's use of words, rubbed his eyes with his right index finger and thumb as he closed them. Balgruuf's eyes widened.

"I must have misheard you. I thought you asked me to help to trap a dragon in my palace," he repeated to make sure that was what the mercenary meant. His shock was understandable.

"My Jarl, I'll have to apologize on behalf of my Thane -" the other man broke in.

"I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important," the Dragonborn confirmed, cutting him off.

"You're infuriating," the Housecarl stated muffled so only Corvo could hear it.

"Shush."

"Of course, you already saved Whiterun from that dragon. I owe you a great deal, but I don't understand," Balgruuf said, went his attention at Argis who obviously was the sensible one. "Why let a dragon into the heart of my city when we've been working so hard to keep them out?"

"The threat is worse than we know, my Jarl," Argis added. "Alduin has returned."

Balgruuf could not risk letting his guard down with the Stormcloak rebellion and the Imperials fighting each other. Because of this, the Dragonborn had to arrange a peace truce between the two sides, in the debating hall in High Hrothgar. After two short conversations, they agreed to meet up. However, Esbern and Delphine showed up too, so they had a little argument with the Greybeards. The Greybeards found these two Blades to be ‘bloodthirsty barbarians,’ using Arngeir’s phrasing.

The remaining Blades found the Greybeards to be people that accomplishes nothing and only ‘pray up in their mountain.’ He agreed with the Greybeards in this matter because the Blades found the power of the Thu’um to be a tool to exploit, while the Greybeards always chose wit before brawn, being the sensible ones. Even so, they were allowed entrance.

_I hate politics._

After a while, they finally came to a truce, where he was lucky enough to come to a good result, as he stayed neutral. After the council was over, Esbern told them how to summon an ally of Alduin - had heard of a Shout that he could use to call for Odahviing, the Winged Snow Hunter.

_I felt guilty saying “Dawnstar was a fair trade for Markarth” so openly in front of Argis during the council. He lived there, for the love of the Gods. It came out completely wrong. I wanted nothing more than to keep a neutral truce, and that was the only way, without allowing Maven to take control over Riften. She practically owned the Guild I was part of, so I’d rather die than to see her rise to even higher ranks... and power._

“Argis, about Markarth -” he tried pragmatic.

“Thane,” he cut him friendly off. Corvo stopped walking, turned around so he faced his Housecarl, who had stopped moving as well. “Everything you did here today was for the better. Every corrupted Jarl has been replaced. Honestly, I’m... amazed how well you did. No hard feelings, my Thane.”

_The lad never fails to amaze me._

Delphine spoke to the dual-wielder before he had the chance to set the plan in motion.

She knew about Paarthurnax, and she wanted Corvo to kill him, just because he was a dragon. She threatened with the fact that the Blades would not help if he refused to do as they said.

“He’s proved himself a trustworthy ally,” the Dragonborn stated. “If you want further help to expand the Blades, you'll have to do it on your own.”

The Dragonborn greatly admired Paarthurnax. He had been strong enough to go up against Alduin - and his words were always filled with wisdom:

_“What is better - to be born good or to overcome your evil nature through great effort?”_

Corvo refused to do it, trying to persuade her to leave it be, but she would not listen - so the discussion became rather heated.

“You go too far, Dragonborn,” Delphine warned. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t put you down right now as a traitor to the cause!"

_Very heated._

“I’ll give you two. I’m the only one who can stop Alduin, and one more thing,” he began, and suddenly started speaking in Dragon tongue like the thundering sound by Whiterun the day he found out that he was the Dragonborn of the 4th Era. “Dreh ni fus bahi!” _(Translation: “Do not force wrath!”)_

“Thane!” the Housecarl called defensive as he took a stern hold of his Thane’s right arm, holding him back.

They were all just as surprised. Even the Dragonborn himself.

“By the Gods, the power of the Tongues!” she called concerned, not wanting this to get ugly. “Very well, I have no desire to die here today. Are you sure this is what you want?”

“I’ve already said my part,” he said determined. “We will not speak of this again.”

“Very well, Dragonborn,” she replied defeated. “Though it goes against our better judgment, we will abide you by your decision and allow Paarthurnax to live.”

Finally, Delphine listened, and moved onto her business. The mercenary took after his forehead with his right hand, was almost shaking, because he had never expected to react in such a way. It felt like the dragon blood was consuming him. Like he became more and more alike the dragons that were so desperate for control and power.

“Blast,” he muttered. “What’s happening with me?”

“It’s nothing,” the other man stated dismissive. “Let’s go.”

“Argis,” he warned as he turned around so he faced his Housecarl. Argis’ expression softened a little, while the other man had tightened his brows. “Stop following my lead without question, lad. I need you there not only because of moral support and your sword-arm, but as someone who keeps my feet planted on the damned ground.”

“Thane,” he said stern, tried calming the situation.

“Corvo,” he corrected him determined. “By Shor, start looking at me as a _person_ and not a godforsaken title!”

“That’s not what I meant - I look at you as one heck of a lot more than a title!” he snapped, so Corvo got a bit surprised, as his expression softened a little. He closed his eyes, silently exhaled, and opened them again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t -”

This was the first time ever that he had seen his Housecarl upset in any way. It was so unusual that it almost came as a shock. Argis was a self-controlled man, never letting himself lose it.

“Stop. Glad to see you break out of that damned emotionless bulwark that I always see you in, lad. By all means, Argis, question my every move. Dragons were created to dominate, and I swear I feel... a lust for power,” he encouraged followed by a statement, approving of the thought. The other man’s expression softened. “Swear to me that if it goes too far, you put me down -”

“It won’t come to that,” he cut his Thane off determined.

“Swear to me, lad,” he said as he stepped forward, so it was only centimeters between his head and his own, looking him directly into his eyes. There was a moment of silence, but reluctantly, he finally replied.

“I swear.”


	4. Realization

They later arrived at the Great Porch of Dragonsreach.

 _“Od... Ah Viing!”_ It became silent for a moment, but they then heard a menacing roar by the mountains in front of them, saw a movement in the sky and so, Odahviing approached. _“Joor... Zah Frul!”_

Odahviing was forced onto the ground. He started crawling towards his challenger on his wings. The mercenary backed from and with the dragon to lure him into the trap. When it’s head was under the roof on the porch, the trap was triggered, and so the metal curve caught his head, holding him down. He had no way escaping.

“Niid!” Odahviing called, embarrassed of his capture. The dual-wielder walked up to him, crossed his arms, and the two had a long conversation. Odahviing revealed that Alduin had retreated to Sovngarde, to feed upon the souls of the dead to strengthen his resolve. Skuldafn, a Nordic ruin, was the only place that had a portal leading to Sovngarde. Nevertheless, it could not be accessed on foot, so Odahviing had to fly him there. “Free me, and I will carry you to Skuldafn."

“Open the trap.”

“You sure about that?” the guard asked the mercenary reluctantly as Argis crossed his arms, uncomfortable by his Thane’s decision. “You want to let that dragon loose, after all the trouble to catch him in there?”

“Aye, lad. I’m sure.”

“Your funeral. Someone else is gonna have to help you get him back in there again,” he said as he moved his attention to the other guards. “Get ready to open the trap!”

Then the trap was opened, and Odahviing was free. He then crawled on his wings until there was no roof over his head anymore.

“Faas nu, zini dein ruthi ahst vaal,” the dragon spoke. _(Translation: “Fear now, honor keep rage at bay.”)_

The mercenary approached his Housecarl, first. His expression softened a little, as he released his arms. Argis softly placed a hand at the other man’s upper arm, feeling the pleasant warmth and comforting sensation of reassurance, as he gently squeezed it for comfort. The Dragonborn bent slightly forward so his forehead met his Housecarl's, who was only inches taller than his Thane.

“Be careful, Thane.”

After all this time, he have had the amber-eyed warrior by his side. Even if it was for only a few months they had known each other, the two had become practically inseparable, and now the Dragonborn was about to face the greatest danger without him. He knew he wanted to be there with him, but that was not an option at the moment. He had to do this on his own. Corvo’s expression softened a little as well.

“Can’t promise that, lad,” he muttered honestly, and then tightened his brows. “You better be right here when I get back.”

“I ain’t going anywhere, my Thane.”

The werewolf was forced to smile a little, placed a hand at his Housecarl's chest and then gently pushed himself away. He approached Odahviing.

“Saraan uth. _(Translation: “Wait order/command.”)_ I await your command, as promised,” Odahviing stated. “Are you ready to see the world as only a dovah can?”

“I’m ready,” he replied confident. “Take me to Skuldafn.”

“Zak brit uth! _(Translation: “Most beautiful order/command.”)_ I warn you. Once you’ve flown the skies of Keizaal, _(Translation: Skyrim,)_ your envy of the dov will only increase,” he confirmed. The mercenary then climbed onto the dragon, gave Argis one last glance and an encouraging smile, and Odah spoke again. “Amativ. Mu bo kotin stinselok.” _(Translation: “Onwards. We fly into freedom of sky.”)_

“You’re either the bravest person I’ve ever met...” Irileth, Balgruuf's own Housecarl, commented puzzled and amazed at the same time as the dragon started lifting from the ground “...or the biggest fool.”

"He’s both,” Argis muttered.

He found himself in Skuldafn.

It was a beautiful outer area with around three separate temples and wings, dragons circling the sky, spotting like afar archers for their next presumed prey. The outer area was filled with draugr Deathlords, both archers and warriors, so it proved to be quite a challenge. He had no trouble with slaying dragons anymore, but when several powerful enemies were attacking at once, he easily enough struggled. The only dragons he was extra cautious with was the Revered Dragons, that were able to drain both health and magicka at the same time.

It made it difficult to heal because the Dragonborn was no mage. He had little of the arcane arts mastered. Even so, they were brought down, and after a while he reached the temple. Minutes of dwelling deeper into the ruin went. He had gotten near the portal to Sovngarde where Nahkriin, a dragon priest, was guarding. When there was no enemies in eyesight, he activated the seal with Nahkriin's staff, and found himself in Sovngarde. The sky was purple, blue, white, and light red.

It had a harmonic, yet menacing touch at the same time, as mist surrounded the area while the path was covered in it. He was not one to show emotions, but he struggled keeping a straight face, when he saw Kodlak Whitemane. Kodlak had reminded the young Nightingale a lot about his own father, so it was hard even for him, although they had known each other for only a few days. He approached Tsun, the gatekeeper, who had a test in store for him if he wanted to enter the Hall of Valor where the First Tongues were waiting.

He wanted Corvo to bring him down in combat, which he did, in only minutes. He met Ysgramor and the First Tongues in Shor's Hall. They then sat out to kill Alduin, who circled in the misty sky. The battle was intense, but they managed to bring Alduin down, and after he was gifted with a Shout to summon a warrior of Sovngarde, he was sent back to Tamriel. He was taken to the Throat of the World, where he spoke to Paarthurnax, compassionate that even if Alduin was not exactly a good... person/dragon(?) he was still Paarthurnax's brother.

The dual-wielder was an only child, but he could definitely empathize, because he had lost friends that were just like family. The mercenary also gained another ally: Odahviing. He placed his name by the Dragonborn so he could call upon Odah if he had need.

_I wasn't aware of the fact that Odahviing would someday save my life._

He soon spoke with Arngeir, who had a feeling that Alduin might actually come back, but Corvo had done his part because this would happen long after he had died. He returned to Dragonsreach where he found his Housecarl standing on the Porch, faithfully waiting, leaning to a pillar by the mechanism of the trap with crossed arms. He looked somewhat uneasy, turned his head in his direction when the door was opened. Their eyes met, and Argis pushed himself gently away from the pillar as he released his arms.

"Well, well," the Dragonborn said amused, halfway chuckling. "I'm amazed you're still holding out with me."

He went over to the other man - forced him into a warm bear hug, his right arm around his shoulder as his other hand was resting at his back.

_I had to chuckle at his eyes widening in surprise by the sudden embrace while he tensed, his hands basically hovering, as I could tell even by not looking at him that his expression could only say one thing: "What am I supposed to do?"_

"C'mon, lad," he said in an amused tone. "Don't leave me hanging."

And with that, Argis returned the hug protectively tight but it was far from uncomfortable, closed his eyes and tightened his brows as the Nightingale buried his face in the grope between the right side of his neck and shoulder.

"Hey to you too," he replied softly.

Corvo had gotten a message to meet up in Hroldan Inn. However, the result was unexpected.

"And here's our hero!" called one of the many people in the inn, as the others cheered.

The mercenary was flattered. He got a big congratulate-bear hug from Farkas, who lifted him up so the Dragonborn was forced to laugh a little, while Vilkas was being as grumpy as ever. It was part of his charm, after all. Corvo sees the twins as his brothers, and was very protective over the both of them. His expression softened a little as he spotted a familiar face with a friendly smile by the door. Argis noticed his reaction, confused at first, but then moved his attention to who his Thane was looking at. His expression softened a little as well.

He now recognized her from the drawing.

_Elena._

"I'll, ah... find me when you're done talking, all right, Thane?" the Housecarl suggested, moving his attention to the mercenary, who briefly looked at his companion. "I'll be here."

Corvo then approached her, still standing by the door, not in earshot for the rest of the people in the inn.

With a friendly smile, she spoke. "Hey."

"Hey, lass," he returned the favor. "How are you?"

"Oh, I'm fine," she replied as she nervously moved some hair away from her face, not knowing where to go with the conversation. He took the lead.

"What are you doing in Skyrim?"

"Investigation. I arrived only days before your journey to Sovngarde," she replied honestly, smiling a little. "I'm proud of you, Corvo."

He had to admit it was good to see her again. Elena did not come back because her ex was now somewhat of a Hero, so they could get back together. She was not that kind of person. She genuinely just wanted to see him, and she had a matter to take care of in Skyrim, as well. He crossed his arms, leant to the wall with a teasing smirk.

"You came all the way from Cyrodiil to see me, eh?"

"Don't flatter yourself," she advised, so they both had to laugh a little. "It's been a long time."

"Aye, it has," he confirmed. She went forward, was about to remove his hood, but he gently grabbed her hands and moved them to his chest. "Elena... don't."

"Three years, and I can't even see your face?" she asked, as she smiled her beautiful smile. He had to smile a little back, but then he broke eye contact, as it faded. The beautiful dark-haired woman's smile faded as well, while the mercenary looked to his right. She knew him better than that. "There's obviously something wrong... What are you not telling me?"

"I'd never hurt you, lass," he began, atoning for leaving. "But I don't always have a choice."

She tightened her brows, slowly removed his hood. He had his eyes closed, but soon met hers, as he opened his own that was far too predator-like to be human. Those eyes that were once beautiful grey-blue. She gently grabbed his left hand, was allowed to guide him towards the light of the closest candle by the door. At once he entered, Elena saw his wolf-alike fangs as he slightly opened his mouth while he looked down, about to say something. She went closer to him, placed her right hand under his chin, gently titled it a little up so they got eye contact again.

She was about a half head shorter than he was, though.

"Gods... why didn't you contact me?" she asked with a worried expression.

Ashamed, he confessed. "I was afraid what your reaction would be, lass."

"Corvo," she muttered as she took a gentle hold of his hands. "I don't care if you're a vampire, werebear... or werewolf."

"I have no control over myself anymore. I can't go up against my nature... it's in my blood. The desire for hunt, and there's no cure."

"There's Ysgramor's Tomb..." she suggested - was well read - went closer to him. "You can still cure yourself in the main chamber."

"I'm an Alpha."

There was no cure for such a thing. At least not one that he was aware of. This was the exact reason why Corvo feared where he would end up. He had devoted himself to Hircine by being a werewolf, Nocturnal for being a Nightingale and Sovngarde for being a nord. However, he wanted nothing more than Sovngarde, where it was unlikely he would end up.

"By Talos," she muttered, as her eyes widened in compassion. "I'm... I'm so sorry. Does _he_ know?"

"Argis?" the mercenary asked in need for confirmation as he glanced over to his Housecarl, speaking with Thrynn and the Companions, seemed to have a good time. He was forced to grin a little at the sight of Argis' small smile where he was sitting. "Aye. He, the Circle of the Companions and the people in the Ragged Flagon... which will say Thrynn as well."

She knew Thrynn quite well, too. He tried to woo her once and almost succeeded, which is understandable, because Thrynn was a very attractive man. A womanizer for sure, but there was still that certain charm that you could not simply deny. That was before she was with Corvo, though.

"Of course, why am I not surprised? You two always get into trouble," she said rhetorically, and the werewolf turned to her again, had to chuckle at that. However, his expression softened at once he heard her brittle-toned statement. "You're still wearing it."

He preferred to unbutton about three fastenings on the upper edge of his armors, so it would not be too tight. Her eyes had moved to his collarbone where his armor split, her expression softened greatly, looking distressed. Elena's hands rested at his chest, as he moved in closer.

_The Ring._

"I never wanted to leave," he confessed. "We always got into trouble back then, and I'm the one to blame."

"Corvo -"

"Hold on, just listen, you never listen," the Dragonborn replied a little exasperated, so she exhaled softly in reply, allowing him to continue even if she was about to protest.

"I ended up in jail for the first time as an eight year old, lass. Bringing you into situations like that was my specialty, even if we always managed to talk ourselves out of it, and your father utterly hated me. So did your brother. They both distrusted me, and had valid reasons to, because I was a bad influence whether you want to admit it or not. I spent three years getting over my guilt for leaving, and seeing you again after all this time... For three years I couldn't get over you, lass. Three years, I considered returning to you... but then this happened."

With that, her expression saddened as well. "What are you saying?"

"You're the most important woman in my life, Elena, and I need you to know that I never meant to hurt you in any way. But I can't leave what I have here," he almost pleaded. "So just, please do me a favor... Forgive me."

Affectionate, she replied. "I've already forgiven you, big-guy."

The mercenary placed his right hand below her chin, gently strokes his thumb across her jawline so she was forced to smile a little at the warm and caressing touch as they moved in closer. He slightly tightened his brows, and then softly pressed his lips against his ex's in a "thank you" as he closed his eyes, and she willingly returned it. She closed her eyes as well.

Argis saw it from the corner of his eye, tightened his brows in somewhat of a worried fashion and looked away, with only one thing in mind: _“I’ll be damned if he gets hurt again.”_

"Lass," he broke the kiss with, moved his hands to each of her upper arms, as he tightened his brows in a worried fashion. Even if he was the one to kiss her. "I can't."

"Tell me something, Corvo."

"What?"

"After all that you just said," she began, smiling wondering, "why did you pull away?"

"I..." he replied, was a little confused himself, "don't know."

"I see," she simply replied, revealing that his answer was more than good enough as she smiled a little mischievously, started moving towards the others. "I don't blame you. He _is_ very handsome."

He looked puzzled.

"What are you talking about?" he began asking, but when went up for him, his eyes widened. "Wait, what? Elena, that's not what I -!"

His eyes automatically wandered to his Housecarl. Corvo's expression softened a little. Argis had crossed arms, always on guard, never allowing himself to be unprepared.

 

_"I can't leave what I have here."_

 

_Elena was right, but I like women. For Gods' sake, I married one. That lad meant one hell of a lot to me, but I could never look upon him in *that* way, or any other man whatsoever... at least I didn't think so._

She playfully nudged her ex's upper arm with her shoulder, so he looked back at her, as he realized that he had been staring. Elena winked teasingly at him at once she knew he faced her, and then joined the others in the celebration.

"You're dismissed until we head out, lad," he said as he approached his Housecarl, to get his mind off whatever just happened, had a softer voice than usual that he was not able to hide. "No need to worry."

"I don't give a damn if I'm dismissed or not. One of these people might have a dagger in their boot -"

"For once, try to relax," the werewolf cut him off wearily. "You're making me edgy."

"Thane -" he tried.

The dual-wielder pushed him determined down in a chair there, and then placed himself at the right armrest.

"That's an order."

Hours passed. Corvo was standing by the bar-disk, lost in thought. Thrynn approached his boss and leaned his back to the counter, crossed his arms, as the Nightingale took a sip of his own drink.

"So..." Thrynn began. "Who's the top?"

The other man almost choked on the mead, started coughing, much to Thrynn's amusement because he grinned like an idiot.

"Oblivion devour me now..." Corvo muttered helpless.

_It all made sense now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** The dialogue with Delphine is taken from the mod "The Paarthurnax Dilemma."


	5. Tension

It had started getting late, and people were returning home.

Corvo moved towards the door followed by his Housecarl. At once they exited, they noticed the cloud-filled sky. The mercenary exhales, placed his hands on his hips.

“Saving the world from a fully-grown lizard and this is what I get, eh?”

“It’s just rain,” Argis stated, looked a bit puzzled, saddled his horse.

“Say that to a werewolf. Hopefully I won’t turn. Can’t stand the stench of wet dog,” he replied, as he frowned. The other man let out a short breath as beginning of a laugh, as his Thane placed himself on Shadowmere. “Let’s get moving before -Ah… Blast.”

It had just started raining. Unfortunately there was not enough beds in the inn to stay the night.

“Markarth isn’t that far away,” the blonde reassured. “C’mon.”

They were almost soaked when they reached the stables, and unsaddled their horses. After the assassin was given Shadowmere, he bestowed the responsibility of Acer to Argis. They entered Vlindrel Hall. Argis did not waste one moment of changing to something dry, as he unbuckled his black Scout Armor and pulled his shirt off over his head. He moved his hands to his hair and fixed it with closed eyes, while the mercenary's expression softened. The Dragonborn forced himself to look away with big, flustered eyes and tightened his brows in a helpless fashion.

He then entered the map-room without a word. Argis noticed his Thane's silence, so his expression softened a little, looked a bit puzzled.

_Why did it have to rain?_

Days passed.

They approached a cave. Inside they soon noticed the huge, open area. It was beautiful. This was where the Dawnguard holed up, vampire hunters. After speaking with the man in charge, Isran, the two were sent to Dimhollow Crypt to retrieve something that the vampires wanted to get ahold of. They needed to get there first. The crypt was cold and hidden in shadows, little chance to manage yourself through the dark without a light, so the werewolf had a lantern attached to his belt. Further, down in Dimhollow, they heard voices. A vigilant was being interrogated - Adalvald.

“I’ll never tell you anything, vampire," the vigilant stated. "My oath to Stendarr is stronger than any suffering you can inflict on me.”

“I believe you, Vigilant. And I don’t think you even know what you’ve found here,” the vampire, named Lokil, replied as the mercenary loaded a bolt. “So go and meet your beloved Stendarr.”

The Dragonborn took action, but it was not fast enough, so Argis dragged him to himself again to prevent him from doing anything stupid and get a better angle so it would be easier to take the vampires down.

“Blast, lad!" the werewolf called hostile to his Housecarl as he turned around so he faced him with a hard expression, had just finished off the last vampire. "I could’ve saved him!” 

“If I hadn’t held you back, you both would’ve died!”

“It’s not your choice to make!”

Argis had enough of his Thane's crap, pushed him determined into the wall, so Corvo groaned a little on impact. “What in Oblivion is wrong with you?" he demanded an answer. _Other than the fact that I can barely resist pinning you to a blasted wall?_

“This is about Elena, isn’t it?”

The werewolf's expression softened a little, but it was barely noticeable. Seconds went, as they were both just looking at each other, remained eye contact. He placed a hand at Argis’ chest, forcefully turned him to his left so they switched place, making the other man groan on impact. Now it was Argis’ back that was forced up against the wall. The mercenary had drawn a dagger, placed it directly below his companion's chin with the tip pointing upwards, a threatening look shrouding his face.

"Don't test me."

"What, you're gonna kill me now?"

“No,” the mercenary replied determined, much to Argis’ confusion. There was a moment of silence, eye-to-eye, as if they were having their very own conversation. “Blasted, lad… _You’re_ the reason I pulled away.”

With that, Argis’ expression softened. Now he knew. Corvo pushed himself forcefully, somewhat reluctantly, away as he sheathed the dagger. He started walking towards the pavilion without a single word.

“Thane…” Argis began reluctantly, making the Dragonborn stop moving. “I can’t.”

The exact words Corvo had used on Elena, even if Argis had not heard their conversation, only meaning one thing. He was aware that as a Thane, there were regulations against having affairs with their Housecarls. There was a moment of silence. The Dragonborn tightened his brows, almost in a worried fashion, his back yet facing the other man.

“I know.”

The dual-wielder continued moving, as the Housecarl took after his head, silently exhaled with tightened brows. The Dragonborn had approached the pavilion and Argis followed shortly after. It was a button in the middle, and some sort of a symbol around it, looking like an ancient puzzle. The mercenary went up the journal that Adalvald had written, tried finding solutions to what was before them. Minutes passed in silence. No luck. He was about to push the button in the middle and hope for the best.

“You sure there were no notes on this?” Argis asked - not being eager to have his Thane just push a conveniently placed button. “I don’t like this.”

The brown-haired man reached out his right hand, hesitated a little, tightened his brows and pushed it. A spike went through his hand.

“Agh!” he called as he was forced to bend down a little, pulled his hand back and tightened his fist. The pain was unbearable, and his hand started prickling, as well as trembling. Well, that was embarrassing. Argis’ eyes widened. The mercenary cursed out loud. “Blasted!”

“By Shor, stop being so damned careless,” Argis replied a little hostile as he approached him.

“One more word, and I swear, I’ll impale you on that thing."

"Yeah," the Housecarl muttered - not impressed by his Thane's threat. “Good luck with that.”

“Wanna bet?”

“ _No!_ Last time you were in a bet you ended up drunk and on the opposite side of Skyrim," Argis said determinedly exasperated and took hold of the other man's right wrist - to get a better look on the wound. Corvo groaned displeased. “You can take care of that, right?"

“What, you’re concerned about me?” he replied sarcastic as he healed himself, and Argis let go of his arm.

“'Course I am,” he stated flatly with tightened brows, as he was stating the obvious. "Can't begin to count how many times you've almost gotten yourself killed - and I ain't gonna allow that."

With that, the mercenary's expression softened a little, because he expected a: _“No, but with all due respect, you’re useless without your sword-arm.”_ Purple lights filled in the carved symbol around them. They looked up.

“This better be worth it,” the werewolf muttered, as the Housecarl went his attention at the flickering lights. “Careful, lad.”

“Look who’s talkin’."

He noticed the pattern fast. When it was complete, a coffin rose from the ground. It opened, and a woman was forced on her fours. The duo were both a bit surprised. Her name was Serana. She had an Elder Scroll on her back, much to their confusion, but did not bother to ask. Hopefully, she would not do anything stupid with it. After all, it was a powerful artifact. The woman needed to get to her home, Castle Volkihar, so they escorted her there after informing Isran of what was happening. The family reunion between Serana and her father, Harkon, was not exactly pleasant.

When they returned to Fort Dawnguard, Isran informed them that they needed more recruits. Gunmar and Sorine. After they were recruited, they returned to Fort Dawnguard again. Serana told of a prophecy that her father was obsessed with, and that they needed to have the Elder Scroll translated, so they could find out what Harkon was after. To read an Elder Scroll, they needed a Moth Priest, and Moth Priests only existed in Cyrodiil. Luckily, there was a Moth Priest in Skyrim just now, by the name of Dexion.

However, vampires took him, but that proved to be no match for the trio. She had decided to join them. Returning to Fort Dawnguard with Dexion, he translated the Scroll, and revealed what Harkon was after: Auriel's Bow. It also revealed that there was two more Scrolls, in which the Dragonborn already possessed one - the Scroll that allowed him to see back in time and witness Alduin be banished. Their next objective was to find Valerica, the vampire's mother. She possessed the last Scroll.

She was holed up in Castle Volkihar, in the courtyard, hidden by a monument that looked like some sort of compass. Moon crests were the keys. They were scattered around the place, so they got in. In the interior, the three found a circle in a laboratory. They used Valerica's journal to find out how to open it. It was a portal to the Soul Cairn, where all souls ended up, if they were Soul Trapped. To get it open, they had to use several ingredients that luckily was already in the laboratory, and the last ingredient was Valerica's blood.

Corvo suggested to use Serana's blood, which was literally the same one, so the vampire became rather impressed. She made it clear that mistakes with these kind of portals could be gruesome, but they were willing to take that chance. It did not take long before all the ingredients were collected. Meanwhile, the Housecarl was studying the circle, hands resting at the banister of the balcony.

“You’re really gonna risk it?”

“We’ll have to if we want to find Valerica,” the beautiful vampire made clear, understood what he was thinking, had to smile a little. “He’ll be fine.”

“All right, I think I’ve got it all - Soul gem fragments, void salts and bone meal. The purified version. And the other one," the Dragonborn stated, as he approached them, while Argis gently pushed himself away from the banister. "Gods, my head hurts. That's it, right?"

The items were placed in a vessel by the balcony. Serana made it clear that she had no idea what would happen when she added her blood. She inserted it. A huge sound was heard. It sounded like the roof was falling down. The room lit up in purple. They were all in awe. The portal opened, and Serana moved closer to it. The mercenary was about to follow, but he felt he got damaged, causing him to back a little.

“Are you all right? That looked painful. Now that I think about it… I should have expected that. Sorry,” she said somewhat sheepishly. “It’s hard to describe. The Soul Cairn is… well, hungry, for lack of a better world. It’s trying to take your life essence as payment.”

“His _what?_ ” the Housecarl asked a bit annoyed.

Vampires were not counted among the living. Serana could probably go through there without a problem. It appears that the only way to get into the soul cairn was to either be soul-trapped or become a vampire. The Dragonborn had to admit he liked none of their options - and neither did Argis. Not just that, but if Corvo chose to become a vampire, his beast blood could perish. This was not the case, though. He would become a were-vampire, if that was even a thing. Being an alpha had blood distinctive from any normal werewolf. He could not get rid of it.

“There has to be another way."

“Maybe. We could just ‘pay the toll’ another way,” she replied. “It wants a soul, so we give it a soul. Yours.”

“Whoa, hold on here,” Argis broke in again, obvious he liked neither option. "Walking through there could be suicide. You expect me to just sit back as you do all of this?"

“Aye, I do. Argis, please,” he coldly cut him off determined as he walked up close to his Housecarl, looking him directly into his eyes. “There’s no point for you to risk it as well, so you stay right here. Blast, lad. I don't want you to get hurt. Doesn't that count for anything?"

Argis' expression softened a little.

_Orders were orders._

The Dragonborn was hesitant - if his life force, his soul, was taken away - would not he die as well? Serana told them that her mother had taught her a trick or two. Valerica had taught her necromancy, so Serana could soul-trap Corvo and deliver it to the Ideal Masters that guarded the place, might being enough to satisfy them. It would make him a bit weaker as they traveled to the Soul Cairn, but Serana held hope that they could fix it once inside. Maybe. She said that she would not think any less of him no matter what he chose.

She made it clear that sometimes, things just had to be done, which she had more than enough experience with.

“Soul Trap me,” he finally decided. “I won’t feel right as a vampire.”

“Are you sure? I’m willing to do it, but you need to think this through. You’ll remain mortal, but you’ll find yourself weakened within the Soul Cairn. I know this is difficult for you. I hope you trust me. I’d never do anything that could hurt you,” she made clear. Corvo just gave her a nod. "Let’s not waste any more time then. I promise to make this as painless as possible. Hold still.”

Serana soul-trapped him. Corvo definitely felt stranger. Almost empty. He did not realize that he no longer had feelings as his soul was gone. He was a husk. Hopefully, he could have this fixed, or his morals would cease to be. They moved towards the portal. He gave his Housecarl a last glance, and then followed Serana. The Soul Cairn had purple sky and dark contrasts.

It almost looked creepy. In the Soul Cairn, they met many unfortunate souls, one of them being a soul who had lost his horse in the Cairn. Arvak, being the name of the horse, could actually leave this place. The soul asked him to bring a summon spell with him, so he could call for Arvak in Tamriel. It was obvious that the souls didn’t exactly like the place. They also met Jiub. If Corvo was an elf and lived during the time of the Nerevarine who defeated Dagoth Ur, he would recognize him as the exterminator of Cliff Racers, a menace that roamed Morrowind for Eras.

He had managed to lose all the pages of his opus, so he helped, and brought Jiub’s writings back to Tamriel so they would remember him. Minutes passed, and they finally managed to find Valerica, who revealed that the reason why Serana was locked up was to protect her. Apparently, to fulfill the prophecy, Harkon would need the blood of a Daughter of Coldharbour. That meant a pure vampire. He was willing to kill his own daughter, having the correct blood, in order to do so. _Parent of the year goes to…_

Valerica had fled herself to the Soul Cairn for that exact reason, because she obviously had the same blood. The prophecy included blotting out the sun, so all vampires could roam free at all times, not having to hide from the sun. She told them that they had to defeat the Keepers of the Soul Cairn, in order to get to the Elder Scroll, which was surrounded by a barrier. Bringing down the Keepers would remove it. When they were brought down, they had to face Durnehviir, a dragon that guarded the Soul Cairn. After he was defeated, they took the Scroll, and was ready to head out.

The Dragonborn promised Valerica that he would return to get her after Harkon was dead, because she would have no need to be in hiding anymore. On their way out, Durnehviir reappeared, but he wasn’t hostile this time. He referred to Corvo as a worthy combatant and placed his name with him, so he could call upon Durnehviir in Tamriel, just as he could call upon Odahviing. Good to know that three dragons were on his side. They then returned to Tamriel. Arriving at the Fort, they were met by bad news - Dexion was blinded by the past Scroll.

The mercenary was now forced to travel to the Ancestor Glade, home of the moths in Skyrim, and read the Scroll himself. Nevertheless, it was risky. The moths had then all collected themselves around him. A ray of light hit an area next to the altar.

_No wonder why moth priests went blind. These things could definitely stab one of my eyes out if I wasn’t careful. You know, no offense, Argis._

“I never trusted those damned scrolls. Who knows what could’ve happened to you?” Serana replied with tightened brows. “Just look at Dexion. What about Auriel’s Bow. Do you know where we can find it?”

“It’s in a place called Darkfall Cave.”


	6. Cursed

They sat out towards the place.

Further inside, there were some kind of way shrines. They spotted a rather pale Elf, a Snow Elf, by the name of Gelebor - a falmer that was not cursed. The only way to retrieve the bow was to travel to the Forgotten Vale, and while they were there, Gelebor had asked them to do him a favor - kill his brother, who had been corrupted. They learned a lot about the Snow Elves, though, just by speaking with him. In order to get to the Temple of Auriel, they were given a vessel, told to fill it with water from each of the shrines in the vale.

The water would open the gate. The Forgotten Vale was a huge, snowy outer area. When crossing the ice there, two dragons broke from the ground, and the trio had to defend themselves against the twin dragons Voslaarum and Naaslaarum. Finally, they reached Vyrthur, Gelebor’s brother. He was sitting in an ice throne, surrounded by falmer and chaurus, frozen in solid ice. Some of the frozen falmer in the room soon broke free and attacked, and the trio fought them. They were standing in a circle with their backs turned against each other, watching each angle.

Three rounds. A huge circle of magic surrounded the Snow Elf. It almost exploded everything around him. Corvo was forced back, placed his right arm in front of his face as the light was almost blinding. He was forced onto the ground, as rocks were tearing from the sky.

“Corvo!” he heard Argis' voice, calling out in concern. It was the very first time he had used Corvo's name. Spikes came from the ground. They blocked the Housecarl's path, held him back, so he broke free with the sword as Serana ran over to the grounded werewolf. Argis came after and helped him up. “Hey, easy."

“Dammit, lad, I’m fine -” he began, but was cut off by making a weak pain sound, taking after his right side with his left hand. The Housecarl fast took hold of him before he fell. "Blast!"

“No,” he replied determined. “You’re not.”

Serana approached a wounded Vyrthur, tired of the delay, and the duo came shortly after. They soon found out that Vyrthur actually was a vampire, which turned him against the rightful path, because Auriel did not protect him. He wanted revenge. Vyrthur was brought down not long after. They soon noticed Gelebor standing by the way shrine who had just appeared, started moving towards him. They explained to Gelebor what had happened. Not long after, they retrieved the bow, and proceeded to go back to Fort Dawnguard.

There was no time to waste, because the final assault was in play. After finishing off the vampires in the hall, Serana, the long-time duo went to the cathedral to find Harkon. Minutes passed, and they managed to bring the vampire lord down, and parted with Serana. Corvo would first like to inform Valerica that it was safe to return to Skyrim. He and his Housecarl shared a look, and the mercenary's expression softened a little. He then tightened his brows again. They entered the laboratory not long after.

“Don't wanna haul you outta there," the Housecarl commented before Corvo entered the Soul Cairn. "Careful, all right?”

“Am I not always? Don't worry. I'll be back in a few minutes," the mercenary said rhetorically, forcing out a joke. The other man exhaled exasperated, enough for his Thane to understand his way of thought: _“That supposed to be a joke?”_ The grey-blue eyed man could not help but smile a little. He then entered the Soul Cairn. Few minutes passed.

“She’s returning to Tamriel as soon as she’s ready," he clarified. "C’mon, chief. Let’s go home.”

They arrived in Markarth.

The werewolf made another pain sound, took after his side.

_Blast… not again._

“Thane, you okay?” the other man asked, slight concern reflecting in his voice.

“Define ‘okay’,” he replied flat as he leant to the table, crossed his arms as his Housecarl's expression softened a little. Corvo tightened his brows and turned his head so he was looking forward. “Up until the day I was convinced to reveal my beast blood for the first time, I’ve kept myself secluded from everyone. I never told you how my ex-wife and I were forced apart. We fought a lot because she back then also loved to explore… see new things. I was worried for her safety.”

“That the reason you left?”

“Aye, although I wasn’t exactly a law-abiding citizen, either. I figured it would be better if we separated. I started thinking of returning, you know,” he added, as his expression softened little, same as his companion’s. “But then, I retrieved the beast blood. The point of all this is, I guess… is that I left because I cared, wanted to keep everyone away from the danger following me.”

He immediately understood what was going on, tightened his brows.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

The werewolf closed his eyes, and then he opened them again, looked back at the other man with a saddened expression. That was enough for him to know he was serious. The taller man placed his hands on his hips, turned around so his back was turned against Corvo.

“Argis -”

“How long?” he cut him off.

There was a moment of silence.

“Just..." the werewolf begun with a lie. He could not imagine how the other man would react if he said any longer. Argis turned around so he faced his Thane again. Seeing Corvo’s saddened expression and famous puppy-eyes, the Housecarl’s softened a little as well. "A couple months."

“If that’s what you wanna do… I won’t stop you,” he replied muffled, although far from convinced, not moving his eyes from his Thane - he knew he was lying. Corvo stepped forward, forced his Housecarl into a warm bear hug that he willingly returned, holding him as if he was his one and only lifeline. “Take care of yourself, all right? I’ll be here.”

_I knew it would be far longer than that._

Twenty-four weeks passed.

The Housecarl had overheard a rumor regarding a werewolf attack in Falkreath, where one of them where presumably an Alpha. He had saddled his horse, sat out towards the village. Someone had to stop the werewolf from going berserk in beast form, and the man closest to him was his best bet. He was not afraid of him, even if he should. Time passed. Argis had almost reached the place. However, he unsaddled his horse because he realized he was being watched from the woods by several eyes.

“Go,” he commanded the horse determined in a muffled tone who made a hesitating sound, drew his sword as wolves surrounded him - murmuring, but raised his voice when the horse was not responding. “Now, Acer!”

Acer ran as ordered. They planned to attack, but then he heard a menacing howl. The wolves whimpered and backed away. Just like when the wolves looked at his Thane months ago. A big black werewolf became visible on a ledge. The tall, rocky mountain was only about eight meters away. The werewolf was standing on a higher vantage point. He was bigger than the others. The alpha. The alpha found Argis to be a challenge, wanted to take him down himself. The Housecarl looked threatening back at it.

Just as his eyes met the werewolf’s glowing yellow eyes, his expression softened. He recognized the feeling of those eyes anywhere.

“Corvo...” he muttered.

Corvo, in beast form, broke the eye contact, nearly crawled slowly menacing towards Argis in an attack position as he murmured. He knew he had to fight his Thane. When he was a werewolf, he was a machine of destruction. Then he was only to hunt his prey to please Hircine. He did not recognize anyone. Not even Argis. Argis tried calming him, aware that it probably would not help, as they slowly circled around each other.

“All right… easy. I don't wanna have to do this.”

Corvo growled threatening in beast form, and few seconds went. They both stopped moving, waiting for each other to strike. It was a moment of silence, and then, the werewolf charged in great speed. Argis blocked his first attempt to use his fangs by placing his sword horizontal across his throat with the flat side so he did not hurt him. The alpha made a great rift in the other man's left shoulder with his right hand. Argis backed a little and made a pain sound. He took after his wound with his right hand. They circled around each other again. Once again, Corvo charged.

The Housecarl dodged it by moving to his right, and managed to rift the area by the left side of Corvo’s left eye with the blade so the werewolf growled a little. However, the mercenary knocked him over. The dagger the Housecarl had in his holster fell out to his right. He placed his sword horizontal against Corvo again, so the werewolf bit into it and broke the sword in several pieces. Argis saved himself by punching the werewolf right in the side of his jaw. Corvo backed a little as he growled, but it didn’t take long before he was on top of Argis again to hold him down.

As the amber-eyed man tried to hold him back with his left arm, he reached for the dagger with his right hand and got a hold of it. He drove the blade into Corvo’s left side, so it shattered on the inside of the werewolf’s body, making Corvo howl in pain as he backed. Argis moved his attention at the bloodied and shattered dagger he held in his hand.

_Silver._

His eyes widened, moved them to Corvo’s.

_“If I want to live, I’ll just have to remove each splinter. Fast.”_

Finally, the beast seemed to recognize his Housecarl. It was as if the silver poured humanity into him. The werewolf's expression was saddened, as Argis rose up. He let go of the dagger, in shock for wounding his Thane that badly. The werewolf noticed his companion's wounds. There was one on his upper-arm and one at his split lip.

“It’s all right. I’m fine -Corvo!” he tried reassuring him, but Corvo whimpered in shame, started slowly backing away and then sprinted in full speed away from him not to wound him any further. Argis had no chance reaching him at this time on foot, but he yet started running after. Seconds later, Acer came running to his right. The blonde made a stylish maneuver, got up on the horse in the speed, made a pain sound, because the alpha had gotten him good. Acer neighed as he took hold of the reins.

“Hey, good boy... Hiya!”

He spotted the blood-trail.

His expression was filled with regret at the sight. It did not take too long before he reached Corvo’s hideout, a place called Lakeview Manor. The blood-trail leaded there. Argis unsaddled his horse, ran towards the door and nearly knocked it off the hinges with the force of his right shoulder. The trail leaded to the room with a cell to a trapdoor that was almost shut. He opened it and went down, immediately found Corvo’s unmoving body. The mercenary's shirt had been ripped off in the transformation.

His pants were ragged across the areas where his bone structure had expanded. The cut he had created went from the left side of the werewolf's left eye to his cheek. He was lying on his back. A lot of blood had spilled. Argis’ eyes widened in great concern.

“No…”

He ran towards him, sat down on his right leg, had placed himself by Corvo’s side, carefully made the mercenary's upper body lean to his other leg. The Dragonborn’s eyes were closed. Corvo suddenly took a deep breath as he sat up, his eyes widening as they opened, started coughing as he automatically wrapped his arms around his Housecarl’s neck. Argis tightly returned his Thane’s embrace, had closed eyes and tightened brows in a relieved fashion. Argis gently pushed himself away, turned the his Thane's head in his direction so they faced each other.

“What were you thinking… coming out here, lad?” the Thane asked concerned with a softened expression. “I could’ve killed you -”

“Saving your damned life. Who else are gonna stop you?” he said determined as he tightened his brows. Corvo was forced to break the eye contact as he closed his eyes in pain, clenched his teeth as he looked down again. The Dragonborn saw blurry. “Hey, stay with me, all right?”

Argis went his right arm around his own shoulder, placed a at the mercenary's hip-side and helped him up. He leaded him to the bed as he noticed the other man became a lot weaker, so he took a better hold of him, and placed him gently in the bed. What happened to Corvo would certainly kill most werewolves. He was one tough son-of-a bitch with a burning determination, though. Silver - no wonder why the Silver Hand had an upper hand. The mercenary made a pain sound, clenched his teeth. He had only minutes left, tightly closed his eyes and brows.

He was breathing a lot quicker than normal, as the pain was almost unbearable. A silver dagger did a lot of damage to a werewolf.

“Easy. You gotta help me out here,” Argis almost muttered, a hint of concern in his voice, as he was trying to calm him. He placed a chair at the floor to the left side of the bed and picked up the ebony dagger from the cupboard to his right and slid into it. He started removing the splinters of the silver like the Dragonborn told him before. The werewolf used his predator vision to guide him towards the splinters, shouted in pain after each one Argis got out. It was heart-wrenching to listen too, but then Corvo finally seemed to relax, breathing normally again. “Last one?”

“Aye,” the werewolf confirmed muffled.

“Never do that again,” he said muffled with a harsh tone - placed the dagger at the cupboard at the left side of the bed - his voice softening again as he tried to stay formal. “Thane.”

“Lad, we have to talk -” he tried, but then clenched his teeth once again, made a pain sound and sat up, was cut off because of the pain. The Housecarl moved his right hand to Corvo’s chest to make sure he would stay in the bed and not rise up. "Blast..."

“We ain’t talkin’ until you’ve regained your strength.”

“There’s no way I’m just gonna lay here -”

“Get some rest,” he demanded as he pushed him into the bed again as he rose up, so he made a pain sound, started moving towards the door. Stubborn son-of-a bitch, indeed. Too stubborn. “Now.”

“Argis…” he began. The amber-eyed man stopped in the door-opening and placed an arm at the side of it. “I’m sorry.”

The Housecarl’s expression softened a little, but then he tightened his brows again as he pushed himself gently away from the door and left the room. After minutes of almost unbearable struggle, Corvo had somehow managed to fall asleep. He looked blissful as he rested. However, they both knew that such a fatal injury could take weeks at its worst, meaning the mercenary would be in some kind of coma with no estimated time gap. Corvo was still unconscious, right arm was resting across his stomach, right knee bent as his head was turned to his left.

Argis wearily entered the room, walked towards the bed and slid back into the chair that was far too uncomfortable to remain in for long. He rested his arms in his lap, barely taking the time to drink or eat, rarely leaving his side and feeling guilt for allowing this to happen in the first place.

Days.

Corvo’s brows slightly tightened, slowly forced his eyes open as his expression softened a little.

He carefully sat up so his feet was planted on the ground, realized he needed a few seconds to collect himself so he did not fall, having been in bed for so long. The brown-haired man blinked the sleep away from his eyes, as he took after his head with closed eyes and an almost numb hand, and then opened them again. Corvo moved his attention to Argis sitting on a chair by the square table in the near center of the room to his left, browsing the journal to see if there was anything on treating a wounded werewolf. The Housecarl’s wounds have had the time to heal.

“How long was I out?” he asked as rose up from the bed so he was standing, supporting himself with his a hand at the wooden cupboard to his side. Argis soon looked up, had spotted movement by the bed, as his eyes widened in surprise. He rose up in a determined motion, placed the book down at the table as he walked towards his Thane. To Corvo’s surprise, Argis clenched his right fist and punched the brown-haired man hard, straight in his stomach, so Corvo was forced to grunt in pain and slightly bend forward. “Blasted, lad!”

As Corvo looked up again, he was about to shout at him, but decided not to as he saw the Housecarl's stern expression. He was not pleased, by far. The mercenary turned towards the table he sat by earlier, rested his hands at the tabletop, as he looked at it.

He knew that he had a lot to explain.


	7. Lust

Corvo was not exactly looking forward to having this conversation.

“The past four months I thought you were dead, and the time you revealed yourself, you’ve been unconscious for ten days straight, leaving me with guilt for almost killing you. You should’ve told me it was that bad,” Argis began. He then turned so his left shoulder was facing the other man, as he placed his hands on his hips. “What’s going on, Corvo?”

“I’m losing control over my beast blood,” he admitted. “I was trying to find a cure, or… I didn’t want to return empty handed.”

“How?”

“I was working on destroying a group of werewolf hunters named the Silver Hand. On my way to Whiterun, I ended up in some sort of ambush," he began explaining the night he became the alpha. Argis turned to the other man again, walked over to him and placed his right hand under his chin, gently tilted his head up a little. "I was only meters away from the alpha.”

“Same night you got that scar, wasn’t it?”

He was referring to the one-lined scar across his mouth on the left side as he looked at it, caressingly slid his thumb across it, so Corvo tensed a little. He shivered at the touch, feeling the warm sensation reaching his whole body in a way he had never experienced before. The werewolf's expression softened a little, and the amber eyes met his again, with an unreadable expression.

“Aye."

Seconds went, and Argis pulled away. The other man hesitated to ask, but in the moment as he was about to open his mouth, his Housecarl answered as if he had read his mind.

"A bear. A friend and I made a bet that if I killed it bare-handed he'd finally take me seriously and stop calling me 'Blondie'," he began, so the corners of Corvo's mouth could not help but twist upwards at the adorable nickname. "I killed it, but I was young, and it was stupid."

"Why? You won the bet, lad," he replied as he slightly shot out his arms in confusion. "Either way, the look suits you."

"It's stupid 'cause I could'a prevented it if I hadn't insisted on doing it shirtless. It wouldn't have clawed me and I wouldn't have lost my guard. From there on out, it became 'Bulwark'."

_Shirtless bear-wrestle? Gods, Argis... what in Oblivion are you doing to me?_

They overheard a rumor in Falkreath about a little girl that had been murdered in a most gruesome way.

It unnerved the Dragonborn to no extent, for good reason, as he could be the one responsible. She was ripped apart. The werewolf’s eyes widened in concern, so Argis placed a comforting hand at Corvo’s shoulder, making the werewolf relax a bit more because of the small gesture. As they investigated, they found out that the one responsible was in Falkreath jail, making the mercenary exhale in relief. His name surprised him quite a bit when it was mentioned. Sinding. He was one in his pack.

He took hold of the door handle, gently pushed the door open and walked inside while the other man remained where he was, leant to the stonewall by the entrance and crossed his arms.

“Sinding?” he stated confused.

“Corvo? I suppose you’re here about the incident,” he assumed while he looked up with a surprised expression, as he walked over to the gate. The alpha tightened his brows in a little worried fashion that indicated that was his goal. Sinding’s expression saddened. “Believe me, it wasn’t anything I intended to do, I just… lost control. I tried to tell them, but no one believed me. It’s all on account of this blasted ring.”

“What ring?”

Sinding then showed him the jewelry, so the other man's eyes widened.

_The Ring of Hircine._

“This is the Ring of Hircine,” Sinding confirmed his suspicion. “I was told it could let me control my transformations. Perhaps it used to. But I’ll never know. Hircine didn’t care for me taking it, and threw a curse on it. I put it on… and the changes just came to me. I could never guess when. It would be at the worst times. Like… with the little girl.”

“What happened?”

“I had just come into Falkreath. They needed some help working the mill, and I thought that would be something safe. Something I could do. When I saw the little girl, I was just... I could feel it coming on. I could taste the… I needed to hunt," he began with a disgusted look.

“But this pitiful, limited body wasn’t meant for hunting. Slow, no claws. Weak, mashing teeth for chewing cud. I held in my rage as I could. But it boiled inside me. She looked so fragile. Helpless prey. And then… I feel terrible about what happened. About what I did. It would probably be best if I just went away. I’ve been looking for a way to appease Hircine. There is a certain beast in these lands. Large, majestic. It’s said that Hircine will commune with whoever slays it. I tracked it into the woods, but then had my accident with the child.”

“I want to beg his forgiveness,” he added. “Give him back the ring. But while I’m stuck here, the beast wanders free.”

The alpha tightened his brows, realizing the danger, but then his expression softened a little. He could not just ignore it. Somewhat reluctantly, he opened his mouth.

“I’ll bring it to Hircine.”

“Oh my. You would do this for me? Here, take it,” he said as he threw it over to Corvo with widened eyes, who caught it without problems with his right hand. “I don’t want anything to do with this wretched thing anymore. And if you do cure it… keep it. It sounds like you need it more than I do, my friend. Seek out the beast. He wanders these woods. Bring him down and… well, the Lord of the Hunt should smile on you. I wish you luck, but should leave here while I still have my skin. Should our paths cross again, I will remember your kindness. Farewell.”

Sinding then transformed, and escaped through the ceiling of the cell. The alpha backed a little from the gate, exited the jail and placed his right hand at the left side of the door as his expression turned worried, having his back facing Argis.

“Sinding had stolen the Ring of Hircine,” he began. Argis’ eyes widened, knowing its power. Corvo gently pushed himself away from the wall and turned ninety degrees to his left, held out the hand that wielded the ring. “However, it’s cursed, and I need to seek out Hircine to have it cleansed.”

“Whatever Hircine wants, it’s worth it,” he replied determined as he was about to move. “C’mon.”

“Lad, wait,” the other man said stern with tightened brows. The blonde turned so he faced him. “You can’t be around me while I’m wearing this. I can lose control any time.”

“A better reason for me not to leave your side until it’s done.”

“Argis, please,” Corvo argued a bit hostile. “We don’t have time for this.”

“That’s final.”

“I can’t lose you!”

“I ain’t yours to lose!” he called without thinking it through, but his expression immediately softened of his outburst. Corvo remained silent, clenched his jaw angrily with a hard expression. That hurt a lot more than it should have. “Hey, I didn’t mean -”

"You certainly send mixed messages. I don't understand you, lad. I certainly never will," the werewolf replied defeated. "Fact is you're too blasted stubborn to tell me what's truly bothering you."

"By the Nine Divines, Thane, don't you see?" the Housecarl replied stern, but calm, obviously bothered. "I'm your Housecarl - my duty is to protect you no matter the cost, and when you decide not to tell me about matters like this, I can't help you. I want to help, but you won't let me -"

"That's not what I'm asking, and you damn well know it," the werewolf stated, as Argis turned his back so it was facing his Thane, placed his hands on his hips with tightened brows. There was a moment of silence. “Why can’t we just remain the way we were before Dimhollow?”

“You don’t understand -"

“Blasted, lad,” Corvo muttered irritated. “Just tell me!”

The werewolf had never seen him this way. So determined, so bothered by the fact that the mercenary kept all this from him. For all he know, he could have been able to help the Dragonborn in some way. Help him look for a solution. However, Corvo did not allow him. He wanted to do this himself. Argis determined turned around again. 

“Dammit, Corvo, I almost killed you -!”

“I came back!”

The mercenary had stepped forward at his reply, walked up to his Housecarl, and remained eye contact all the way. Argis took after his eyes with his right index finger and thumb as he closed them, and then started moving. There was no point arguing. There was no doubt that the Housecarl was bothered by this. He was protective, and that made him unable to think straight, sometimes forgetting that he had a job to do. Feelings could not get in between his job and the way he swore that he would make the best decisions without personal interference.

It became more and more difficult to remain true to his job. He had allowed himself to get far too attached to his Thane to be able to make the correct decisions. He was sure that resigning as a Housecarl would be the best choice for them both. He decided not to make that decision now.

“I'm done talking 'bout this.”

Corvo used his Predator Vision, revealing warm presences at a long distance - it would help him track down the beast.

His eyes widened, indicating that he had found the White Stag. It was a big deer with white fur. The mercenary used the crossbow, shot down the deer in one hit, as the bolt piercing its skull. They approached its corpse. A deer aspect appeared in the very front of them.

“Are you Hircine?”

“I am the spirit of the hunt,” Hircine replied disembodied, “just one glimpse of the glorious stalker your kind calls Hircine.”

Corvo was aware that the Lord of the Hunt wanted something in return. Daedric Princes just worked that way. They never gave anything for free. The mercenary had good experience with several Daedric Princes - Nocturnal, Hircine, Clavicus Vile, Hermaeus Mora, Malacath, Vaermina, Namira, Sanguine, Sheogorath, Peryite, Azura, Meridia... even Mephala and Mehrunes Dagon. He did not have much knowledge about Boethia, though. He despised her the moment she asked him to kill someone close to him.

In this case, there was no reason to, because she did not threaten to punish him for not doing so.

“What will you have me do?”

“Your fealty is precious to me. I will make good use of it,” Hircine stated. “The one who stole it has fled to what he thinks is his sanctuary. Just as a bear climbs a tree to escape the hunt, but only ends up trapping himself. Seek out this rogue shifter. Tear the skin from his body, and make it an offering to me.”

“He’s done me no wrong," the Dragonborn replied with tightened brows. "I won’t kill him.”

Argis tightened his brows, turned around so his back faced him and placed his hands on his hips. The Dragonborn was right, but this could be his chance. He would not have to run anymore. He would be able to sleep peacefully. He would be able to control his transformations, which he certainly did not now. There was only a matter of time before he turned. It was all so uncertain, and not being able to know if his Thane was in pain or not, worried the Housecarl. The mercenary was not known to show his emotions so easily.

"There is no retribution in the hunt. It is not vengeance I seek, but the blood course of a living hunt," the Daedric Prince stated genuine. Hircine's aspect slowly vanished into thin air. "There are others who hunt him while you delay. Your choice."

Corvo was about to start moving, but was stopped by Argis who was about to say something.

"What's the point of fighting for my humanity if I'll lose it in the process, lad?"

"I know, Corvo. I wasn't gonna say that," the other man replied. "Whatever you do, I've got your back."

Bloated Man's Grotto was a beautiful inside oasis, and fortunately, Corvo was blessed of not turning a single time.

The two did nothing more, focused on the matter at hand, and wouldn't stop before it was done. The sight of several fresh dead hunters met them, blood splatter lying about, deep claw marks, but they had yet to start rotting. It was a massacre. One was still alive, a khajiit named J'Kier, his back resting at a rock as he cradled a wound with his hand, not having much time left.

"Has the Blood Moon called you, fellow hunters? The prey is strong, stronger than the hunters," J'Kier muttered through a hoarse tone. "But more will come. Bring him down, for the glories of Lord Hircine."

It did not take long before the wounds claimed him, draining his life, until he could no longer breathe. Only moments after, they spotted Sinding who was trapped behind a cloak of fur, but yet being able to speak. He was standing on a huge mountain hill several meters up, overlooking the interior, studying their surprising approach.

"Corvo… why?" he asked. "Never thought I'd see you again."

"I've been sent to kill you, Sinding."

"And I would deserve it, wouldn't I?" he asked, somewhat resisting the urge of just allowing it to happen, to end his silent suffering. His soul was filled with guilt as he felt unclean. "I can't stop you if that's what you want to do. Hircine is too powerful."

"I won't kill you, Sinding," the nord promised. "I have no reason to."

"Thank the Gods," the pack member replied relieved. "Now let's deal with these other hunters. We hunt together once more!"

Shortly after, they met the hunters, and brought down the eight practicing champions. Corvo approached Sinding after all of them were dead. He made it clear that he would make his home there, away from anyone he might hurt. They exited the cave that Corvo wanted nothing more than to get as far away from as possible, portraying the Hunting Grounds that his soul was devoted to end up in the afterlife. Corvo wished for Sovngarde, but having devoted himself to several Daedric Princes such as Hircine and Nocturnal, he did not know what to expect.

The thought terrified him. The Aspect of Hircine appeared before them once again, opening his mouth as his disembodied voice filled the clear sky.

"Well met, hunter."

"I defy you and your vile tasks," the werewolf said, standing his ground, not needing to apologize himself for his actions.

"So you may think," Hircine replied impressed. Corvo could feel his own brows furrowing. "By bringing down my other Hunters, you turned the chase inside out. And they were no base prey. You continue to amuse and impress. Go forth, with my blessing."

The aspect then faded once again, this time, remaining in the Hunting Grounds, ready to bask upon the next hunt. Corvo moved his attention to the silver ring with the carved wolf head, which briefly shone, much to their confusion. As he realized, he turned around so he faced Argis, awaiting a sign or answer on what was happening. Corvo's wolf-alike eyes turned back to his original, beautiful grey-blue color, his premolar fangs retracting back into his mouth as his eyes widened in surprise. He tilted his head up so his eyes met Argis', as his expression softened in relief.

The mercenary's expression said it all, nothing more needed saying and so Argis stepped forward and forced Corvo into a protective bear hug, which was exactly what he needed. Corvo felt himself melting in his Housecarl's embrace, holding tightly around him, as they both had tightened brows and closed eyes. There was a moment left in silence of the two just holding around each other.

Argis then pushed himself gently a little away with his right hand, as they opened their eyes.

"We should get moving."

Corvo placed his right hand at the door handle leading to Vlindrel Hall, gently pushed it open and entered, followed by Argis.

"Get some sleep, all right?" Argis advised. "You need it."

Corvo thought he finally was able to sleep again, and not lay awake all night, closing his eyes but no sleep befalling him. That's when he remembered that he had never truly slept well, even before being a werewolf, for obvious reasons. The clock was 04:28. He awoke, and sudden, he sat up. With a trembling hand, he wiped the slight sweat away from his brow, regretting using the Ring. He felt he was breathing heavier, tightened his brows in frustration, as he moved his hands to his face.

He soon rose up from the bed, threw the bed sheet to the side, and knocked the closest cupboard over. Glass crushed leaving only fragments, furniture was toppled over as the werewolf forced himself not to shout in agony. Corvo placed himself by the left bedside, feet planted on the ground, as his left arm rested at the left side of his lap. He took after his head with his right. The werewolf soon drew the ebony dagger with his left hand, the tip pointing straight towards the bedroom door.

The Dragonborn lowered it at once he saw Argis leaning to the door opening. The Housecarl had awoken because of the sudden commotion in the left wing. His expression softened as he looked up from his hand. He moved his head so he was looking forward again, and then gently threw the blade out in front of him. He moved his left arm back to resting at his left leg.

"Sorry if I woke you, lad."

The Dragonborn moved his right hand to his own left upper-arm, gently moving his hand up and down, as he could still feel the cold embrace of the Daedric Prince of Dreams. He was used to this, but it had been months since he last slept, his beast blood keeping him awake. Argis completely ignored his apology, caring for nothing more than Corvo's well-being, as the Housecarl steadily walked over to him, ignoring the glass fragments. The cold embrace retreated and was replaced with unfamiliar warmth like a lover's embrace.

It was not uncomfortable in any way, as the Housecarl placed himself sitting to Corvo's left.

"What's wrong?" His expression was somewhat softened - but Argis was a difficult man to read.

"Nightmares."

"Gods curse that Vaermina..." Argis muttered in disgust.

"I almost miss the perks of not being able to fall asleep. Completely forgot how the lass has tormented me ever since I was a child. Especially after…" Corvo cut himself off, but continued, after a pause. "…after Cyril, I guess."

"I don't know what happened, but… I'm sorry."

Seconds went.

"The Thalmor ambushed us. They had found the whereabouts of my father, and didn't waste a moment to start looking for him. The bastards kicked down the door, so he drew his blade, defending us off. He took down five of them until he pushed me into the room besides, told me to run towards the back-door, and shut the door behind me," Corvo explained. His expression saddened a little as he muttered the final words. "I was four."

"Was it about him?"

"No, lad," he confirmed, and then paused, not revealing anything more. "It was a friend."

_Argis._

"I'm sure he's, ah, she's…? not going anywhere, Thane. Count on that," he assumed. Few seconds went. "Want me to stay?"

"It'd certainly help me sleep better."

He was thinking of how Argis' warmth had practically forced Vaermina away, turned his head to his left so he faced his Housecarl who moved his own eyes to his.

"Then I'm staying."

There was just something about Argis' eyes that the Dragonborn could not quite place, how they were able to show emotions, even when Argis' hard expression rarely changed enough to notice. They were warm, inviting, compassionate and protective that confused him to no end. His expression softened, which Argis seemed to notice, as his expression softened as well. The werewolf fast broke the eye contact before he completely lost control over his actions, resisting the far too tempting urge of pushing his Housecarl into the bed, and finding out why.

_Not even Elena made me lose control like that._


	8. Give In

Days passed. The combatants were getting stronger.

The two had walked into a falmer ambush, and the cursed snow elves were everywhere, blocking and preventing any attempt to flee. Corvo and Argis had ended up in a horrible spot. They were standing back-to-back, keen eyes eyeing every direction, as the fight was just like a civil war where their army had failed to win. There were only two versus about a hundred falmer, both with melee and ranged weapons, making the chance of getting out alive slim. They were forced apart by some meters.

A daedric arrow pierced Argis’ left shoulder, who was forced back two steps in innumerable pain releasing a slight groan, as he remained standing. He took after the arrow with his right hand, broke it straight off, knowing he would just bleed to death if he pulled it out. He did not want his movements be slowed down. Argis, being as strong and determined as he was, continued fighting without hesitation. There was no way he would give up unless he could safely say that his Thane was out of the war-zone.

Corvo tried to heal him, but a strong poison drained his magicka, making him unable to cast the spell. He got sidetracked by worrying over his Housecarl, and was soon forced onto the ground by one of the falmers close to him who knocked him down, as he saw blurry. The amber-eyed nord had charged the closest falmer, blocking the snow elf's incoming attack with Spellbreaker, knocking him back and then drove the blade into its skull. Blood riddled on his blade, he spun to his left and decapitated another, almost lost balance because he was rather drained.

A Shadowmaster equipped a heavily poisoned Daedric arrow, pointed the bow at the Dragonborn. He awaited the pain, but then…

“Oh no you don’t!”

“ARGIS!”

The Housecarl placed himself, without hesitation, directly in front of him.

The arrow was struck right below his chest, in the area of the heart. It was like it all happened in slow-motion. The Dragonborn had not been so afraid to lose someone ever since his father told him to run. The blonde was almost forced onto the ground, but the mercenary took a firm hold of him so he remained standing, as he coughed. He looked down and to his left, spat freshly warm blood out of his mouth followed by clenching his teeth and tightly closing his eyes. Seeing him like this made the Dragonborn feel nothing but guilt.

If it were not for him, managing to stumble upon a falmer infested area, none of them would experience the pain and suffering that they witnessed here today. He went the Housecarl's right arm around his shoulder, moved his attention to the one that wounded him with a threatening expression as he quickly took a firm hold of the crossbow fastened to his belt, finished him off with the ranged weapon that he wielded in his right hand. The brown-haired man was deeply worried, even though he usually did not show such emotions.

The amber-eyed man quickly pulled the arrow out of his body, just like a patch, and threw it onto the ground. He nearly shouted in pain as the deathly poison was pouring in his veins.

“What in Oblivion were you thinking, lad?” the Dragonborn called, more concerned than annoyed over the fact that the Housecarl almost had gotten himself killed trying to protect him. "Blasted, Argis, I'll kill you myself if you try that again!"

The other man uttered a displeased grunt as in a “you should be grateful,” barely managing to keep standing, as his feet were begging him to just give in. Give up. The other man supported him to a place not far away, shielded by the mountain wall and one of the falmer contraptions, where they would have a better chance in cover. The poison used on the arrow was of the strongest kind.

_Jarrin root. The same poison that killed the decoy of Titus Mede in mere seconds. If I couldn’t heal him in time… I shuddered at the thought._

Corvo went his attention at the sky. There was no way he could take them all out, not by himself. So he thought fast.

_“Od… Ah Viing!”_

The Housecarl was truly weak, felt the life drain from him. Not long after, Odahviing approached by wings through the mountains with a distinct to protect the Dragonborn and his companion, roaring in challenge.

“Viik vokun!” _(Translation: “Defeat shadow!”)_

In a big thud, the red-scaled dragon placed himself onto the ground, spouted heated fire at the enemy. The dual-wielder made him lean onto a big, somewhat oval rock. His left knee was bent, feeling pain all over his body, groaned in agony when his back was exposed to the concrete.

“Hang in there, all right?" he muttered with brows tightened in a worried fashion, moved his right hand softly to the left side of the Housecarl’s neck who could barely keep his eyes open, caressing his cheek with his thumb. "I’m counting on you, lad -"

"Corvo -!"

The mercenary noticed his warning, feeling the presence of a nearby falmer mage in thanks to his predator reflexes, turning around in a determined motion as he drove the blade straight into its neck. As his magicka was still draining, he was relieved, as one of his Akaviri Katanas had the enchantment that absorbed magicka. When the falmer lay dead, he turned to his Housecarl again, as his eyes widened. He placed himself to his right. As he saw the life in his Housecarl’s eyes slowly leaving him, he placed his right hand at his Argis’ chest with Grand Healing, just in time.

His eyes were fixated at the amber-eyed man’s all too perfect face. The angelic feeling of being healed was almost too much to bear, as little felt more divine like its warm embrace, flowing through the warrior’s veins. However, healing magic did not cure poison. He was greatly exposed and in in great pain. He was in no shape to fight. He needed to get him to a shrine, and fast, but his magicka was still draining. He was no mage, so his magicka was far from infinite. Odahviing finished the remaining enemies off, as Corvo helped Argis up so he was walking to his companion's right.

Nevertheless, his heart broke as he was forced down again. He was determined to keep him upright, using all his strength to get him up on his feet again, slightly groaned of his weight that was far from normal as he made little attempt to cooperate. He was not able to.

"C'mon, lad," the Dragonborn said enthusiastic. "You can do this, can't you, chief?"

"There's..." the Housecarl began, forcing himself to speak, as it was difficult because of the pain. "...no damned way you can get me to a shrine -"

"I swear, if you're telling me you're giving up -" the grey-blue eyed man began irritated, almost called in agony. "You're not giving up!"

"By Shor, if you could feel the pain I do know, you'd say the same -Agh!" but he was interrupted by making a pain sound like the deathly poison had reached his very heart, was forced onto his knees, while his supporter moved his left arm to around his waist so he could mend the fall as the blonde held himself up with his right hand. "Dammit!"

"Lad, look at me!" he muttered with a stern tone and expression as he moved his left hand to his right cheek, sliding it down to his neck, gently tilting his head to his so they faced each other. Seeing his Housecarl's weary expression, his own slightly softened, not wanting to believe what was happening as he was desperate. "I can heal you -!"

"You can't," he cut him off stern, looking his Thane directly into his eyes. "I hate seeing you like this, so just... just stop."

The other man clenched his jaw, brows tightened in a worried fashion, as he noticed breathing normally proved to be more challenging that usual.

"Argis, blast... I _need_ you -"

"Stop," was his only reply, softly muttered this time. "...please."

"Dovahkiin, if I may. I will carry him on my back, mi fahdon _(Translation: "My friend")_ , because wings prove faster than hooves," began Odahviing after he had finished off the remaining enemies, placing himself behind them, as the other man's expression soften in relief. "I will keep him safe."

The mercenary helped his companion onto Odahviing's back, as the Housecarl made a pain sound. His sight slightly blurred, as effects from the poison, which would not stop draining him until he no longer drew breath.

“Stay with me, lad. I’ll be damned if I lose you too,” he said stern, expression filled with determination while he was able to heal him one last time, as Odahviing ascended to the sky.

The Dragonborn quickly approached Shadowmere, saddled him and took hold of the reins attached to Acer's saddle. "Hiya!"

The horseback ride proved greatly unnerving.

He could do nothing more than pray that Odahviing would make it to Lakeview in time, before the amber-eyed man ran out of time. They had not known each other for long, but more than far enough to grow attached to each other, as they had known each other for under a half year and never leaving each other's side. The thought of losing him was too much to bear. However, when he reached Lakeview, Odahviing could not tell if he had made it or not. The mercenary was either way relived that he had come to the rescue, and was forever thankful.

“Thanks, Odah,” he said appreciative, yet worried. “You saved us both.”

“Do not thank me, mi fahdon. But now, you must see to him,” Odahviing said humbly and ascended to the sky. “It was an honor to fight beside you, Dovahkiin.”

Corvo took a firm grip around the door handle that he proceeded to open. There he was, leaning to the living room table, hand clutching his wound that had not fully healed. He looked up as his expression softened a little, and before he even knew it, his Thane proceeded to force him into a warm and protective bear hug. He had tightened brows in the same worried fashion and closed his eyes. Argis affectionately delved the fingers on his right hand into his dark hair, letting him know that he was all right.

The brown-haired nord embraced his warm touch as he pulled him in closer. He was safe.

“Don’t ever do that again.”

He had softly muttered those words in the same way he once did to him, forcing back the tears that so desperately wanted release, as he buried his head in the grope between the right side of Argis’ neck and shoulder. He did not want to let go, knowing that one day would be their last.

“Couldn’t allow you to get hurt,” he replied just as softly, his eyes still open. “I’d never forgive myself.”

As the Thane gently pulled away, after a moment of just holding him, he softly placed his right hand at the other man's left hip side. The Housecarl was about to remove the chest piece, knowing that his Thane wanted to see if it was healed, but made a weak pain sound. He pushed his Housecarl gently into the table so he leant his back towards it, groaned a little on impact, as the werewolf’s expression hardened. Corvo unbuckled the fastenings on the chest piece of the black Scout Armor, which gave an amazingly idyllic color contrast between his curved, dark scarlet war paint.

When the piece was off, the werewolf's eyes wandered to the wound. He placed a warm, right hand at Argis’ stomach and gently slides it up so it reached the area, as he felt Argis tense at the touch. The mercenary started to treat it. The spell had healed him, but because of the poison, it was not as effective, so it did not heal fully.

“By Shor, would you stand still?” the Thane asked softly, somewhat exasperated, so the other man exhaled silently as he was healed. “You’re reckless.”

“And you’re overreacting.”

With that remark, the Nightingale tightened his brows and forcefully pushed him into the table so Argis’ clutched the soft leather of his belt in reflex with his left hand not to fall, forcing him slightly forward.

“Hey!” the Housecarl called in annoyance.

“Listen here, _tough guy_. I swear to you, lad - if it weren’t for Odahviing, you’d be dead, and I’d be forced to see the lifeless body of a man I’d die for without hesitation in front of my very eyes," the werewolf replied cold, putting pressure on 'tough-guy,' showing hint of irritation.

The other man's expression softened as the Dragonborn tightened his brows in a worried fashion, as he was moving his right hand to below Argis chin. He shuddered at the warm, yet inviting touch of the icy-blue eyed man, as Corvo caressingly stroke his thumb against his jawline.

“By Talos..." he muttered, “you know you’re a lot more to me than my blasted Housecarl.”

Argis’ left hand was still clutching the other man's leather, but quite lightly this time. Corvo’s heart was beating faster and faster, as he gently pulled him closer to himself, could feel the very same heart skip a beat and inviting warmth when he pressed his mouth passionately against Argis’ amazingly soft lips with closed eyes. Whole of Nirn seemed to stop as the Housecarl returned his Thane's gesture as well, closing his eyes, making the mercenary tighten his brows in a captivated fashion.

He placed his hands on the Nightingale's upper-arms and protectively pulled him to himself until there was no room for air between them, as the Nightingale moved his hands to the edge of the other's pants. Argis tightened his brows as his Thane determined unbuckled his belt for him.

“Thane...” he breathed reluctant, breaking the kiss, reminding himself that this was far from appropriate. “Dammit, we can’t do this -”

But the other man forced him into another, a lot more intense this time, which he returned with just as much desire. It was illegal for a Housecarl to have an affair with his Thane, so this was a serious fraternization crime, but he did not give a damn. He wanted this. The kiss turned more desperate, more needing, more wanting as if their feelings had lingered for years and they finally allowed themselves to act on them. And that is exactly what had happened. Corvo barely opened his mouth, allowing his Housecarl entrance.

The kiss turned deeper as Argis forced his tongue into it, holding the Thane’s head in place with his right hand that had moved to the left side of the werewolf’s neck. The Nightingale could not help but release a soft groan of pleasure, tightened his brows in captivation, broke the kiss as they both were trying to catch their breaths again after the intensely passionate kiss.

“That’s ‘Corvo’ to you, lad,” he breathed determined, pressed his lips hard against his again, moving his right arm around his shoulder. "All right?"

“Corvo...”

He had breathed his name sensually in almost a whisper, sending pleasant shivers down the dual-wielder’s body, returned his Thane’s kiss once again. The icy-blue eyed man walked into him so their chests touched, wanted nothing more than to savior this moment, backing his Housecarl with his body-strength towards the bedroom. They both had closed eyes and tightened brows, as they reached the bedside.

“Get your arse into the bed, Argis,” he breathed seductively, sensually sliding his right hand down to his chest, ready to push him down.

“That an order?” he softly asked, quoting the Dragonborn at Hroldan. The Dragonborn’s eyes wandered down his Housecarl’s fit, warm body and skin that the Dragonborn so desperately needed to feel against his own.

“Damn right it is, lad.”

“As you will, my Thane,” his dark, attractive voice muffled submissive.

_Talk about abusing authority._

Argis took hold of the ring on the black-leathered necklace with his right hand, pulled him to himself and lay down in the bed, bringing the other man with him who used armor without chest-piece because of his transformations. Argis held himself up by resting his left arm at the soft double bed, let go of the ring and sensually moves his right hand to the left side of his neck, bringing him closer as they were deeply and passionately making out with vulnerable expressions. The Nightingale moved his hands to the edge of his Housecarl's pants, gently dragged them off.

He moved his mouth to the left side of Argis’ neck and then sensually pressed his soft lips against it. He noticeably became more aggressive, craving for more of his Housecarl, as it went from kissing to gentle biting (now safe because his fangs had retracted) - Argis had to groan at the gesture. Corvo smirked at his accomplishment. The werewolf never thought he would be that glad to have a man groaning beneath him. It did not take long before Argis gently but determined tipped the other man to his left.

The Housecarl ended up on the top instead with a leg on each side of the other man's body. The dual-wielder was about to tip him back to redeem his spot, but the blonde determined pushed him back down. The blonde bent down, started kissing and gently biting down his chest and towards the edge of his pants with closed eyes and tightened brows as he untied his belt. Corvo groaned in pleasure, moved his right hand to the back of Argis’ head and delved his fingers into his hair.

Argis bit into his Thane's belt, dragged it off with his teeth, and spit it out to his right side, proceeded by dragging his pants off. The Dragonborn tipped the amber-eyed man to his right again so he was at the top. They shared another passionate kiss, but it did not take long before Argis won the spot as ‘the top’ again. Argis took a stern hold of his lover's right wrist with his left hand, forcing it into the bed, as he held it there to prove dominance and intertwined his fingers with his.

The werewolf tightened his hand around it, accepting his defeat, while the other man gently nipped his jaw. Corvo might be the boss of the Thieves Guild and Harbinger of the Companions, but Argis was the boss of this relationship, being slightly stronger than the other man now when his beast blood was in check. They would have to battle for who would become the top.

The next day arrived, and the two were spooning, the Thane wrapped up in his Housecarl's warm embrace.

His head was resting on his Housecarl’s left arm, as Argis’ right arm rested across the other man's waist. The blonde woke up. He took after his head with his right hand, rubbed his eyes with his right index finger and thumb, and moved his attention to Corvo to his left. The blonde gently turned his left arm a little so he had easy access to place his hand below Corvo’s chin, gently tilted his head a little towards him, and softly pressed his lips against the right side of his Thane’s mouth with closed eyes. He knew he was awake.

“We should get up,” he breathed in a husky tone.

Once again, it sent shivers down the other man's spine, amazing how such small gestures from the blonde brute could do to the werewolf. He grunted in response, not wanting to move, turned ninety degrees to his right so he was laying on his back. He opened his eyes so they met the man carrying the beautiful, amber eyes who had just sat up, resting his right arm at his right knee.

“What time is it?”

“I’d say it’s around 9 am.”

“Plenty of time, Blondie,” he replied seductively but teasing as well. "I can think of a few things..."

Argis had to grin a little playful, forcing Corvo’s mouth to curve into a captivated smile, wonder how such an amazing man even existed. He was perfect to the core.

“By Talos, don’t start you too,” the Housecarl almost pleaded.

“Seems like you’re going to have to wrestle another bear in just greaves, lad,” Corvo replied smug. “Although you can drop the bear… Feel free to drop the greaves, too.”

“I still have duties, my Thane,” he said reluctantly, spoiling the mood, so the Nightingale judgingly smiled at him.

Argis pressed his own lips against his again, and so he returned the kiss, with just as much passion. They both had closed eyes. The Housecarl then rose up, got dressed and moved to the main hall. The werewolf had finally been able to sleep contently without nightmares roaming his mind, because Argis was indeed, protecting him spiritually as well.

Only minutes after, the werewolf got dressed, and returned to the living room - had to smile a little playful as he entered.

“Your war paint.”

“What ‘bout -?” the Housecarl asked puzzled, but cut himself off as he realized, a faint blush filling his cheeks. “Oh.”

Corvo chuckled, went to go get the mortar and a rag, returned to his Housecarl who was sitting in a chair by the table. The Dragonborn placed a gentle, loving hand under his chin, washed the smeared war paint away from his cheek that Corvo was responsible of messing up last night. He used his left holding the rag, replaced it by a greatly well-made new one, because after all, he was an amazing artist.

“At least I made you blush,” he stated smug and placed the items back to where he found them, his Housecarl rolling his eyes, a smirk on his face. “There you go. I have to say I miss the rush out there."

“You mean the increased chance of getting yourself killed?” he asked disapproving, so the dual-wielder had to smile a little playful. “You know, if someone finds out ‘bout this, I’ll get fired.”

“Damn the rules, lad. I’ll just have to move you in,” he replied honestly, “if you’re still with me.”

“All right… I can live with that,” he confirmed. “To Oblivion and back, my Thane.”

**END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** All right, so this was intended to be the end...  
>  However, I have not used the Dragonborn DLC, something I will do it you want to read it.  
> (That will however be a second part of the series "The Legends Of Tamriel.")
> 
> Let me know, either on e-mail or comments, if you want to see more :)


	9. Foreplay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter just ties up a loose end...

*****

“You must be the reinforcements…" a spooked guard muttered as he had finished scouting and went down from the tower. "Trolls attacked the watchtower - they moved south, towards that very mountain.”

“Did anyone else survive?” Argis asked as he looked a little around.

“I don’t know, but a group went towards the cave to take care of them," the guard explained as he made a hand movement up towards the tall mountains to his right. "What came of them is hard to tell. I was told to stay put in case anything happened, and well… it doesn’t look good.”

“Well, they don’t pay us to stand gawking. Let’s go,” Kayn stated. Not long after, they reached the cave. The redguard turned to Argis. “You ready for this, Blondie?"

“Call me that again kiddo, I dare you,” he replied as he playful went his left arm around Kayn’s neck, disheveled his hair with his right hand. They had to laugh a little. Argis let go of him, gave Kayn a friendly nudge and entered the cave - the others shortly followed. It was rather amusing, because Kayn was only two years younger than the blonde, but that only increased the humor.

"C'mon."

Argis, Kayn, Da’raajo and Caius were mercenaries, and had gotten a distress call. Adventure, danger and the concept of helping whomever they could gave big advantage as their choice of work. They had been sent by the Jarl to investigate what happened to the guards at an outpost in the area, since none of them had reported back after an attack. A few minutes into the cave, they spotted the trolls and broke out in combat. Da'raajo equipped his ebony bow where the arrow hit one in the neck. It made a pain growl as it was forced to lean back, but it was not enough.

He let go of another arrow, which killed it. There were a lot of them, but there were a few guards there too. One of the Frost Trolls grabbed a guard, squeezed him to death and then let go of the corpse. Not a pretty sight. A troll came towards Argis with firm steps, but he determined bashed it back with his shield that he carried in his left hand, followed by driving the sword through its gullet that caused a quick death. Some of the guards tried to flee but the trolls overwhelmed them. Seconds went, and five more trolls joined the other dead.

One of the trolls broke Kayn’s sword, so he countered the Frost Troll’s next try by throwing his body in a stylish roll to the side - grabbed a sword of a fallen soldier. It was not as well-polished, and Kayn preferred two-handed weapons, but he had little choice but to stick with the blade. The fight was soon over, and Kayn chuckled.

“Ah..." Da'raajo uttered refreshed. "I feel like I just woke up from a nap."

Argis turned his attention to the remaining guards to see if they were unharmed. The money was good, but a life was worth way more than a thousand septims, and he felt better knowing that he did whatever he could to make sure as many as possible survived. He had always been the protective sort, had more than enough brawn, but was very intelligent as he often took to brains instead - although he was more than capable of both. These two attributes were looked upon kindly and with great respect.

People often referred to Argis as the leading-type, but he never wanted to have such responsibility, as he preferred to be a right-hand-man rather than the one to make the tough decisions. He could have signed up as a body-guard for some weak-necked noble or lord instead, but life as a mercenary was way more appealing - body-guarding was far too boring. He often took risks, finding it amusing the times he was close to death. Of course... this was about to change in only a few hours.

“You all right, kinsmen?”

“We’ll be fine. No more night patrols for me in a few weeks, though," one of them stated wearily because he, with the seven other remaining guards, had fought these creatures off for around two hours to prevent them from invading travelers that took to the road.

After all, the nearest town was a few hours away. "I’ve seen enough slaughter to last a lifetime," the guard added. "I'll think twice after complaining about how dull things are on guard-duty. Thank you for your aid.”

They went their separate ways. The team had known each other for two years, although Kayn had been at Argis' side ever since they were kids, tipping oxen over and getting into trouble at every whim. Both of them were more than reckless when it came to taking risks, which was not even slightly comforting for their parents, proving easy to identify with. Back then, Kayn was the one to keep the amber-eyed brute in check, although he often joined him on his 'crusades' - he proved great company, without doubt.

Argis was selfless to the core, willing to sacrifice himself to save another, without as much as flinching. He figured that if he was going to die, he would not be able to 'live' in Sovngarde with the fact that he could have done something, but decided not to. Honor was always a big part of a man, women also, but most men. Regarding women, though, he was careful with his choices and never jumped to conclusions - he have had a lot of offers, as he was without doubt an attractive and admirable man, but did not bite.

Kayn, though, was usually the type of guy that just 'went with it' and never settled down. He would never cheat on anyone, though. The redguard once joked with Argis that he 'had to prefer men above women,' but he did not deny it, although he could be attracted to both genders. Hours passed and it had gotten late, so the men sat up camp. The moon shone calming, and they had broke out in casual conversation.

“Hey, Argis,” Caius began, “what’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?”

“Argis?” Kayn echoed friendly with a playful tone while the blonde took a time to think about, folded his arms across his chest, and turned his head to Kayn with somewhat of a puzzled expression. "He hasn’t done shit yet."

“Oh yeah?” Argis replied dismissive. “Then give me a challenge.”

“Now that is an opportunity, my friend,” Da'raajo muttered, swore he could hear the roar of a bear, stepped forward. “The prey approaches.”

“Hey, I got one for you,” Kayn muttered as the bear approached through the lush, green bushes that surrounded them and was waiting for the right moment to strike, “kill it, bare-handed.”

“That it?” Argis replied smug as he removed his gauntlets. “It’s ‘bout time I’d have some fun.”

The others cheered as he removed his chest-piece too. He wanted a greater challenge. The bear rose on two feet, roared and then charged at him. It was a challenge, but Argis handled himself well. The bear rose on two feet again and pierced his left eye with its claws, so he backed little. His comrades became a little worried, drew their weapons. Argis wanted to do this himself, though.

“Don't," he said confidently. "I got this."

Soon, the bear lay dead. Kayn, Caius and Da’raajo cheered.

“By Talos, I didn’t think you’d actually do it”, Caius said as he smiled playful and threw a piece of cloth over to Argis, who caught it with one hand. “You need to get that eye checked, friend. You’re bleeding all over.”

“C'mon, you know I never back down," he stated almost exasperated. Tough son-of-a bitch, indeed. His left eye was destroyed and he was smiling like a badass. "This is your fault, you know."

“Look at the bright side," Kayn broke in, "you’re gonna get a badass blind-eye and scar.”

“I hate you."

“I love you too. You’re like a damned Bulwark, friend,” he replied cockily because he knew Argis did not mean it, thought over his last sentence, as he echoed. “‘Argis the Bulwark…’ that’s it, your new nickname.”

“Better than ‘Blondie’," he replied so the others had to laugh a little. They then heard another inhuman sound. More like a howl. Argis tightened his brows, lowered his voice, as he scouted a little around. “Wolves?”

Seconds went.

“The Twin Moons,” Da’raajo muttered.

“Really…" Caius said over a chuckle as the others went their attention at the sky, full moon, to their suspicion, "werewolves? C’mon.”

Da’raajo then sneered. “You’ll believe Da’raajo when they _carve_ in your _corpse."_ Caius smiled exasperated. The others struggled not to start laughing except Argis, being completely serious, which was unlike him. Kayn noticed.

“Hey, lighten up. It’s just a wolf -”

But then they spotted the glowing eyes in the darkness and shadows. They were all around them. The warriors turned their backs against each other. They were standing in a circle, peeled their eyes in each direction.

Da'raajo's expression hardened. “We’re the prey now..."

“Any ideas?”

“Shh,” Argis shushed Caius in a low voice, "stay quiet and stand still."

They could hear heavy breathing from the beasts, but then the creatures backed into the darkness. At the moment they thought it was the end of it, an enchanted dagger was thrown right in front of Argis as they all backed and drew their weapons. It was a stupid mistake. The werewolves stormed in from all angles, as the men did everything they could to protect themselves and their comrades - but the numbers were too great. None of them would ever betray each other, so fleeing like cowards was never an option.

Argis brought down one of those that were targeting him, close to finishing off the last one - he had been badly wounded. Kayn finished off one and was close to killing the last one. Caius was forced apart from the two others where one came towards Caius from behind. As Caius turned around, an arrow pierced the werewolf’s skull so it fell dead - Da’raajo, standing about eight meters away, just saved his life. Three more werewolves appeared in sight as Argis struck down the last werewolf of wave one.

It was a huge pack of werewolves, indeed. Da’raajo sheathed the bow and went out his maces, as the werewolves came closer. Caius took out one of them. Argis saw blurry because of the earlier damage which the others noticed.

“Hey!” Kayn called. Four of the werewolves went their attention at Kayn, standing fearlessly next to Caius with his axe and shield. Kayn was just as fearless with his battle-axe. Argis’ eyes grew bigger. The four werewolves instead moved towards Kayn and Caius who silently backed a little with tightened brows. “C’mere, you furry pieces-of-shits!”

“Don’t!” Argis called after them, as Kayn and Caius moved fast away from the area, as the werewolves followed. “Dammit!”

Meanwhile, one other werewolf had targeted the blonde. Argis did not notice the Alpha. However, Da’raajo did.

“Look out!”

Argis just had the chance to turn around. Da’raajo fast shot an arrow at the Alpha, who backed a little in pain. Da’raajo stylishly threw one of his maces at the werewolf at Argis, killing it. Five werewolves remaining with the Alpha, where Da’raajo had four on him… while Argis faced the Alpha. Because of Argis’ damage, it did not take long before The Alpha managed to knock Argis out onto his back. He saw blurry. Two werewolves leapt after, as a third one joined. He went his attention up, eyes met the Alpha’s menacing red glowing ones.

Twelve damned werewolves - at least. It all turned black.

"ARGIS!"

Next thing Argis remembered was waking up the day after - he tried to rise up. He made a pain sound and was forced down again, took after his right shoulder with his left hand that was badly damaged. It was a wonder it was still attached to his body, by the looks of all the blood. He then looked up. Argis squinted, spotted the Alpha, lying dead not far away. In total, they had managed to bring each one of the werewolves down. They were all great warriors. Argis did not know if they survived or not, felt the rage and sadness flow through him, as he tightened his brows.

It all became unclear. They were gone. They had to be.

*****

"Argis -" he could recognize a soft, caring and familiar voice, with a slightly Scottish accent - not Da'raajo, this time. "Argis, easy, lad..."

Argis abruptly sat up in bed as he opened his eyes, noticed he was breathing heavier than before, as he had just relived the night he got a scar and lost an eye like it happened yesterday. Next thing he remember was his Thane standing over him, looked somewhat concerned as a gentle hand was softly placed at his right cheek. His expression softened as his eyes met the beautiful, grey-blue eyes of a remarkable man. The Housecarl broke the eye-contact, moved a hand to the lower-back of his lover, pulled him gently closer to himself.

He closed his eyes again, bent slightly forward and planted a sensual kiss at Corvo's well-trained stomach, right above the edge of his greaves. He felt he could relax, tilted his head so his forehead met the other man's body, as the Dragonborn placed his other hand at his upper arm.

"Still only wearing greaves, I see," the Housecarl muttered somewhat teasingly, forcing the corners of the other man's mouth to curve into a grin, pleased with himself. "You've got Hircine's Ring... your beast blood won't rip off your shirt anymore."

"Aye - but _you_ will," he replied seductively, making the Housecarl chuckle warmly and pulled away, because they were not exactly 'gentle' at times.

Corvo gently pushed him onto his back into the bed again, went after so he was on top of him with hands planted on the bed, on each side of the other's body. He started kissing and gently nipping at the side of his neck, making the Housecarl close his eyes, slightly groaned a little in pleasure. "Admit it - we _both_ gain from me wearing this."

"Some much for foreplay... Guilty as charged," he muttered a honest reply. "Still impatient?"

Corvo had to smirk at that.

"You have that effect on people, lad," he breathed between kisses and gentle bites as he sensually slides a hand up the other's bare waist, moved his mouth to Argis' so they lips met again into another passionate kiss.

The Housecarl moved a hand into Corvo's dark hair, pulled him even closer as if it was possible, both slightly opening their mouths. Nothing felt more divine than your body being as close as possible to the ones' you love. Corvo sat up while the other man held himself up with an arm placed on the bed. The Dragonborn was placed in his lap, a knee planted on each side of his body.

"Planning on telling me what it was about - or am I forced to guess?"

There was a moment of silence.

"I lost three friends to them," he muttered so Corvo's expression softened.

Argis moved the hand placed in the other's hair to the side of his neck. Argis sensually strokes Corvo's jawline with his thumb, tightened his brows in a somewhat concerned fashion. "Looked upon werewolves as mere beasts back then... heartless beasts. No honor. No mercy. You're the most humane being I've ever met. Proves how wrong I was. Back to when you told me, I thought I'd never look upon you as more than... -It disgusts me."

"I'm sorry," he replied compassionate, paused, but then spoke again. "That why you seemed so distant when I told you, eh?"

Seconds went.

"Exactly," he simply replied. "At first, I believed you could have been one of them, but... you were still human back then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** The rest of the story will be separate with scenes (drabbles.)  
>  I will definitely write more in The Elder Scrolls universe, including Corvo and Argis.
> 
> Personally, I'm better at writing scenes, so I can add and remove things when I see please.  
> (Example: "Fallout 4 Drabbles" for Fallout 4. It's just... drabbles. Drabbles are funnier to write :3
> 
> At the same time, I'm 100% focused on "Patience," my Mass Effect fanfic.  
> Anyways... There you go.


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